


Soul Survivors

by wolfie180g



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angelic Grace, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Bad Puns, Borrower!Sam, Cages, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester's Soul, Demon Deals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Ghost Dean, Ghost Sam, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Mouthplay, People as Pets, Pet Store, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Winchester's Soul, Sentient souls, Soul POV, Tiny!Sam, Trueform, Vore, animal possession, borrower!Dean, shrank, shrink, shrunk, tiny!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 161,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie180g/pseuds/wolfie180g
Summary: Sam and Dean are dead. Castiel arrives just a bit too late to save their lives but is able to save the Winchesters souls. Even as souls, they recognize Castiel's grace and remember who they are. They latch onto him and manage to escape the reapers, but are now on the run. What can two glowing smoky souls and one half powered angel do against all the reapers hell bent on throwing the Winchesters into the void?





	1. Light in the Dark

Soul Survivors

 

 

Chapter one:

Light in the dark

 

 

“Sammy, hold on!” Dean croaked out, laying close, but not close enough, to reach his dying brother.

“De--” Sam coughed and spat blood. His hazel eyes said it all. He was so sorry for all the crap that went down. Feeling partly responsible even if he had nothing to do with the ambush besides falling for it. It was a routine check, during _daylight_ no less. They were only there in that dilapidated house to gather evidence after the police had left the crime scene. To figure out what monster they were after.

The thing, whatever it was, got the jump on them. Knew they were coming here, and took out Sam first with his own weapon. Dean knew instantly something was terribly wrong. Throwing his phone aside as he barreled into the room Sam was supposed to be checking out, hearing Sam's shout and gasping breaths. He was grabbed and forced through a thick wall made of decorative glass. Then shoved back into the broken shards still stuck in the floor supports. Before he could even feel the brunt of the attack, he reached down and gripped his ankle holster. It held a small yet powerful gun that took the head right off of the monster behind him.

They'll never know what it was, but at least it was dead.

Dean struggled to get closer, gasping like a fish out of water, his body ruined but still going, for at least a few more minutes anyway. “I'm right here... I'm coming little brother.” Dean threw a bloody hand over and dragged his body closer. Sam was on his back, head turned severely to the side to watch Dean's slow progression closer. Blood and viscera smearing the ground as he went. A minute shake of his head for Dean to just stop, save his energy, wait for help. He knew he was a goner but Dean still had a chance. A long knife he had owned for ages, still sticking straight up out of his chest, the rest buried into its owner. At least the thing that stole it from him during the fight, the one who threw it in, is now dead. Its body was still leaning against the wall without its head. It did not go quietly into the night.

Sam felt pride in himself and Dean for at least taking it out before they died. He dared not turn his body towards his brother, because he felt the blade shift against his ribs. Somehow it had managed to bypass the bones and slid into a spot next to his lungs. It was a wonder how his heart hadn't been hit. He needed his brother to stop moving. To save himself. Wait for help.

“D-” Sam wheezed, the knife's sharp edge cut into his right lung. He gasped from the intense new pain and air left it out of the hole when the knife shifted. Blood pooled and fell from his chest as his eyes blanked out from pain. Jaw working soundlessly.

That spurred Dean on faster and he made it within a few feet now. “Sammy!” Dean cried and could see the chest of his Sasquatch brother rise and fall slower and slower, Sam's hands twitching at his sides. Dean finally reached him, hitting, bracing and kicking off of one of the pieces of broken furniture nearby, to get that one last boost forward. His hand clutched at Sam's trembling shoulder. Gripping the fabric as tight as he could, shaking it without actually shaking the arm beneath. Sam turned his head to the side, trying to see Dean from above and behind him. Making eye contact when Dean rolled into view.

He couldn't speak anymore, blood flowing out of his gasping mouth so he swallowed hard to keep it down. Giving his brother a kind, but pained grin. Struggling to tell Dean that it's ok. He's going to be alright. His pain is already going away. They got the monster, now it's just his time to go.

Dean got his other hand up, but that pressed his stomach even more into the debris riddled ground, digging into his open wounds. Crying out in renewed pain as his stomach muscles struggled to keep himself together. He pushed it aside, staring at his little brother. Tears flowed out of his eyes. Sam's own were dilating softly. The life leaving them like a dying candle. Dean knew that there was no hope. Sam was nearly gone. The trembling muscles slowing to the odd twitch. Dean mustered up a grin back, loosening his right hand to pat it onto Sam's neck, dragging the hand to lightly cup Sam's cheek.

“It's ok. Ok, little brother.” He sucked in another burning breath. Keeping his bloodshot green eyes away from the familiar handle of Sam's knife and what it had done. Dean swallowed hard, mustering up some strength, “I'll see you soon, Sammy.” he whispered before coughing. His head ducked down into his chest, wheezing and spitting out blood away so Sam didn't have to see. When he looked back up, his brother was gone.

Dean's hands trembled. The tightness of his fingers causing them to shake. Blood from his hands smeared on Sam's face as his hand dropped to the ground. “See you soon...” He abandoned the wad of fabric that had been holding in his stomach. Willing himself to go faster. He can't leave Sam alone. Can't.

Dean rolled onto his back, just like his brother, and stared up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes after looking out of the half broken window. There was a lush green tree outside. Just visible from the light in the room they were in. He closed his eyes tight after taking in that image of the living tree. Adamant that the last thing he see's when he's alive, is not that damned stained ceiling of this dilapidated hell house. He lost the strength to see Sam as he went, but his hand was still clutching onto the tan and brown flannel jacket Sam was wearing.

Dean had died countless times. This one was it. The grand finale. All that awaited he and Sam was the empty. The void. As promised by Billie the Reaper before Cas had killed her. No doubt that other Reapers would be more then willing to finish the job she promised.

_What's dead should stay dead._

Dean sighed, trying to keep the thicker fluids out of his throat for it, because coughing hurt, and he just did not want to hurt anymore. He wanted to join Sam wherever he is. Thoughts were becoming disjointed and he wondered if the big empty was actually space. A black hole that their souls will be thrown into. He'd rather go there if it had to be somewhere void of things. Musing weakly about how cool it would be for the Winchester brothers to be the first people to see a black hole up close and personal. Even if no one would know, they would. It made the idea of disappearing into nothing somewhat bearable.

Suddenly remembering Tessa's voice from ages ago, “ _Your fight is over_.”

Dean's fingers curled and twitched around Sam's shirt. Loosing their grip. He mustered up the strength to grab more of the fabric, ensuring that the hand will stay holding onto his brother, even after hes dead. As morbid of a thought it was, he knew rigger would set in if he propped his hand up the right way for this last act, last hold, to stay permanent.

Sounds were muffled, his sense of touch diminishing. The cold of the cement floor no longer bothered him. The glass shards in his ruined stomach might as well have been soft downy feathers. He kept his eyes closed. Bringing up the image of his brother one last time, but even that was fading. Pictures overlapping with all the times he's looked at his face through the years. Images of friends and families they'd lost, and the few that were still alive. Dean let them come and wash over him. Comforting him that they'd saved so many. Sorry that they'd left their loved ones so soon. Their fight was over. It's done.

He relaxed into the ground. Breathing his last.

 

Gravel crunched along a path in the distance, growing louder. The sound of a truck's engine roaring closer and closer before it abruptly cut out outside. The door creaked open, admitting the figure into the dilapidated house. Fast steps searching the rooms. Breaths panting from panic and worry. Silver blade out front with a gun still in its holster, ignored. Old habits.

He finally found them. Laying on their backs. Blood everywhere.

“ _No_....” Cas fell to his knees between them. His angel blade clattered to the ground. One hand gently laid on each body. His breaths were hard and his eyes darted about frantically for something to help save them. He couldn't heal anymore. Couldn't wake them up. There was nothing to help bind their numerous wounds. Even as he searched desperately for some answer. How these two Hunters, saviors of the world, could die in such squalor. A headless body was the answer and Castiel just barely refrained from setting it ablaze. The whole place would go up instantly. It was already dead and he had more important people to tend to.

He already knew it was too late. Sam and Dean Winchester were dead. His head bowed forward in utter grief. Tears falling to the cement. He'd hardly ever wept before. The loss too unbearable to hold it in. The brothers meant more to him then most of his angelic family. They'd stayed by his side more then anyone. Took him in, taught him about free will and tried to keep him on the right path. He owed them everything. And now they were leaving him alone. As an angel, even one with such limited grace, he knew he'd outlive the humans, yet, he thought foolishly that he'd have more time then this.

Castiel's body shuddered and bend forward between the two. Moaning in pain at the loss. Begging them to come back. He was so wrapped up in grief, he barely sensed another supernatural presence coming in _fast_. Joined quickly by several more. Gaining more as they came. Of _course_. He wasn't allowed to mourn in peace.

Reapers.

“ **No.** ” He said with determined force. Glaring out the window where he was sure they were going to barge in. His hands nearly lifted from the bodies when he felt it. The slight tingle. The warmth. A timid light starting to peek out from the holes in each corpse like soft white fireflies in fog. His eyes widened as he looked down at Dean then Sam. Lifting his palms up just a minuscule fraction, and seeing the two soul's light respond and slowly rise up along with his hands. The souls resembled smoky light glowing past his hands. The brilliant white light emerging from the body and causing the thinner parts of his hands to glow red from it.

Castiel hadn't realized what he was doing until he saw the light shine out from underneath his fingers. Shafts of it illuminating the room in bands that dissipated depending on how he held his hands over the source. Curling wisps of soul light, lazily flowed in a tight circle underneath his hands, but still mostly inside the bodies they'd come from.

Castiel slowly realized what he'd done. He was begging in his mind, for Sam and Dean to come back to him. His grace took that plea and turned it into a command. Telling Sam and Dean's souls to literally come to him. The soul's white smoky light seemed to branch out, move randomly, until they _didn't._ Each one stayed under his hands.

An idea came to him and he had to act _now_. No time to second guess himself because the Reapers were _fast_. They'd probably been hampered in narrowing down the Winchester's location, just like he had been with all of the spell work on the walls. Sam's prayer out to him a garbled mess of English but the 'voice' was all him, and Cas could hear the fear in it. The events within the building were muffled from the rest of the world, but luckily, cell phone reception worked just fine. Dean's pleading call had cut off sharply with only Cas's name being uttered, a pained shout in the distance interrupted him just before the line went dead. 

Long ago, Sam showed him how to use the tracker program that he convinced Dean to let him install in the Impala. The Impala was out back, his truck parked next to it. The trackers in those vehicles was secured for their little group only, and had been invaluable. Otherwise, he might never have found the brothers.

At least, not in time to get to them before their souls were gone for good. Right now, he knew that he had maybe seconds before the Reapers showed. Feeling his pseudo kin closing in.

Castiel knew this had never been done before, but he had to try. He had to save them.

He closed his eyes and mustered up what little of his grace he had left. One hand pressed more firmly to each chest, over each brother's hearts. He pressed hard and felt the souls curl and sweep inside the bodies that were turning cold even as he knelt there. As if they were gathering up every piece of themselves within the body. From their toes to their heads.

 ** _“Come Here_**." He whispered in Enochian, and lifted his hands at the same time. Pulling the souls up and out of the bodies. They were sluggish from exhaustion, but so brilliantly white. Curling around his splaying fingers. As if recognizing him. Perhaps they did. He'd spent more time with these humans than any other. Touched each of their raw souls before. Mended them countless times after hunts that went south. He knew them inside and out and would know their souls anywhere. And it seems, that they knew him right back, on an instinctual level. Trusting him. Showing their faith in him by curling tightly around his hands, light wispy tendrils trailing up his arms. Soaking in the warmth of his vessel and grace.

Castiel marveled at the sight. Sure he’d held souls before, sought them out inside the chest cavities of several humans, as well as the brothers, but this was the very first time that souls had held him right back. It was awe inspiring.

He could feel the first Reaper touch down outside. He’d already interfered more then once before in the affairs of Reapers. The most notable of which ended with one of their kin slain via his angel blade in her back to get the brothers out of a deal bound in blood. The consequences of violating that deal was said to be Cosmic. Whether that was Billie exaggerating, or telling the truth, he didn’t know. What Castiel _did_ know, was that he wouldn’t be allowed to walk out of here unpunished. Especially with a Winchester’s soul in each hand.

As if sensing the danger, both souls curled even tighter around his hands. Small sparks of light coming off of them in nervous and angry waves. Perhaps becoming aware of what's happening. Cas wanted to console them but that would take too long. He reached down for his blade and quickly returned it to it's place. Not wanting to hurt the soul who shied away from it, gripping his arm tighter in brief fear of contact. He wanted to apologize but heard the wind kick up outside.

He was out of time.

 

 


	2. Shine Your Light on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reapers showdown takes an unexpected turn.

Chapter Two:

Shine Your Light on Me

 

 

The front door and all the windows disintegrated. Shards of glass and wood turned to billowing dust and settled on every surface, turning them into a glittery mess. That was courtesy of the first one's entrance. Another ten Reapers arrived at every opening to the dilapidated house, with the promise of more on the way. Of _course_ the Winchester's reputation would warrant such a force. Gathering up every Reaper in every state nearby no doubt. Perhaps even more, simply to watch and witness the finale end of the Winchester's unnatural 'legacy'. All Reapers present wore the black suits and folded hands. They knew the half powered angel was no match for their combined strength. He was on the top of their cosmic shit list for breaking Billie's deal, before murdering her in cold blood. They were determined to put a stop to it. What's dead should stay dead.

Castiel couldn't fight them all. Not even if he were at full strength. He backed up into the wall, hands that had been held out towards the brother's bodies were now brought closer to his chest. Attempting to hold them close and protect them with his own vessel to the last second. He knew he didn't have the power to do anything more then delay the inevitable. He couldn't just stand by and let it happen. The Winchesters deserved better. The thoughts echoed in his head as the first Reaper entered the room. Damn near sauntering over to him in a slick black suit.

“Stay back.” Castiel's voice growled out. The souls sparking even more now that they felt the presence of their Reaper so close. Definitely awake. _Aware_. If anything, it solidified his desire to defend them til the last. They would feel and know the horror of being tossed into the empty. Witness every second of being ripped from existence. A tear fell down Cas's cheek.

Warmth started to flood his hands. A super nova of power building and building from the souls that somehow knew that they could be helpful, even in this limited state. Castiel watched in wonder as the wisps of light unwound themselves from his hands and hovered at his sides. Listing upwards in the air as the Reapers came in and watched in confusion and awe. Souls don't react like this. They are mindless. Basic. Energy. These souls... were gathering up their consciousness and will. Learning. Observing. _Acting_.

Castiel was about to say something but suddenly his whole body lurched back at the same instant that each soul bolted towards his invisible broken wings. One soul took over the wing on their side. The few feathers the fallen angel had left lit up blindingly white, and he felt the incredible power surge through him. Chasing down his vessels nervous system and reaching his grace a split second later. Realization finally dawned on him that Sam and Dean were giving him enough energy to _fly_.

He wasted no time at all.

Both of his massive damaged wings splayed wide, white this time instead of his usual smoky black. Castiel's eyes glowed blue as held them tight to his grace, and launched the three of them out of that damned building and halfway across the continent. Leaving a city wide block full of Reapers gaping in dumbfounded astonishment.

The brothers shivered and clung on tight to his wings. Wings that were still broken but somehow working. At least for this short jump. It wasn't enough to take them all to Heaven or off of the Earth where they might be safer, but, this jump was enough to get them clear of danger.

Castiel couldn't go any further, and they were going down. Fire billowed out from his wake once they re-entered the Earths physical atmosphere and to any observer, would look like a meteorite hitting the water of a sizable lake. The splash was enormous and Castiel curled his wings into himself to try and protect them and the brothers at the same time. Once he slowed his decent underwater, he quickly got his bearings, and faced the water's surface and started to swim upwards.

Each of the formerly bright souls were now slightly dimmed. Dislodged from his wings on impact as if knocked unconscious, and started to slowly sink, curling in the water like light gray radioactive dye. Dissipating in the water as they drifted to the lake bottom.

Castiel was shocked and horrified. They were fading. Castiel shunned the urge to breath and faced his friends. His precious family. Swimming back down as fast as he could in the black waters. Wherever he landed, it was almost too dark to see anything. Nighttime and under water with only the moon to illuminate anything. He followed the trail of dim lights in the black and held out his hands, reaching desperately for the nearest one to latch onto his hand again.

It was Sam. The recognition instant on contact. The soul was terribly disoriented, and weakly traced Castiel's hand before sliding up to his elbow. Like hands groping out and feeling his presence in the dark it gathered itself back together slowly. Coating his arm tightly before a few of the wispy tendrils swirled out again in Dean's direction. Sam was trying to reach for his brother.

Cas was already halfway there, reaching out again towards the other dimming light, and Dean had jolted at the contact before allowing Cas to cup him in hand. Grabbing onto the fingers and a few tendrils reached over for Sam as well. Cas would have laughed at that if he weren't struggling to hold in his mouthful of stale air. Dean had to check up on Sam, like he always had. Both souls connecting in front of Cas for just a second before coating his forearms again. Assured that each one was still there through the touch.

Cas was out of breath, lungs burned hot and he resisted the urge to let it out and suck in water. He swam up to the surface, kicking his legs more then using his hands. Glad the souls caught on quickly and grabbed onto his upper arms so his hands were now free to swim. Pushing himself up. Finally, he made it. Gasping in fresh air and coughing out the small amount of water that made it into his lungs. Sputtering and thrashing to stay afloat as he rid himself of the liquid in his nose and throat.

He tread water for a few minutes. Using his feet more then arms so as not to disturb the weary souls wrapped tight on them.

He spoke for the first time since they'd touched him. “Are you both alright?”

The souls pulsed weak light for a few seconds. As if trying to figure out what that sound was and the meaning behind it. He felt warmth leak out again, not as hot or intense as before and grinned widely. They were trying to reassure him when he's the one that owes them for his life. They saved him by giving up some of their energy, their very life force to give him his wings back. Even for that short trip. It was amazing.

Cas turned around in place, bobbing in the small waves when he located the nearest shoreline and started to swim towards it. Conserving energy by back floating most of the way there so he wouldn't have to struggle to keep his mouth above water so much. Breathing had become a necessity now that his grace is so thin. There wasn't a big rush. The night was peaceful here, wherever they landed.

Dean clung tight to his left arm, while Sam started to experiment. Now that they were no longer in immediate danger, Sam drifted up from Cas's forearm and hovered a few inches over his chest. Moving right along above him like he was scoping out the area. He might be. So many things were coming to Castiel's mind. How it always seemed to be the Winchester's to discover unprecedented things, and try everything supernatural out by themselves. Usually in detriment to their own health, yet, this seemed like it was for the better.

If they had done nothing, remained inert and mindless like most souls still on Earth without their bodies, they would have been thrown into the void and Castiel would have been killed. There was no question. They saved all of their lives. So to speak. Castiel had to repay them. Help them.

Their old bodies were likely burned or atomized already by those Reapers. Returning the souls to their old bodies would be impossible for him. Impossible for _any_ angel that wasn't an Archangel. And those are basically extinct, or in the cage. Cas vowed to himself that he will find a way to get them back into the physical world again. These light souls might turn to ghosts and then loose themselves faster. No telling how long their sanity will last. Their lives and afterlives were freakin' textbook examples for creating vengeful spirits. Castiel paused in his swim. Pushing down the sadness that they'd gone through so much. When will they find rest?

Sam pulsed light for a slow minute. Hovering overhead then lifted himself up and over to Castiel's right side. Urging him onward again, so the angel continued on. Dean slowly started unwrapping himself from Castiel's arm and hovered up as well. Cas watched as they circled each other, bare tips of their tendrils sparking as they touched and he realized that in their own way, they were talking. Going for a physical connection first then as he kept on swimming, they appeared to be conversing without needing the contact. A hum in the air that he wasn't sure he heard from the sounds of the water and the bats in the sky.

Cas's arms and legs were already worn and tired before, now he was getting _exhausted_. His movements were sluggish and jerky, and that made both souls dart down to his face quickly. Nearly blinding him as they frantically spun around his body, touching it here and there. His muscled buzzed with new energy and he watched the two of them grow dimmer and dimmer.

“No!” He shouted, realizing they were giving him their all. Castiel waved his hands to shoo them off, nearly sinking from trying to move upright to address them as they spun around him. Dean just dove down into the water and buzzed his legs and feet and had to attach to his leg again to keep from dissipating in the water like before. Skirting his black pants until he breached the surface again. Cas cupped Dean's soul and the water around it up and out. The soul slid out of the cupped hands back into the air just above them. Castiel frowned before addressing the light directly. “Dean. I am fine. Please do not give me any more of your life force.”

Dean sparked at him in defiance and buzzed his fingertips. That earned a surprised chuckle from Cas and he stroked his thumb along a thicker part of the white mist. Dean sparked again and flew up next to Sam who circled around, checking out his brother, and Castiel could practically hear the chiding. Probably something along the lines of how dim Dean is. A double entendre. Sam sparked teasingly at Dean who sparked right back. Each spark no bigger then a single twinkle from a child's sparkler. Bare millimeters in diameter but still there and amusing to behold.

Both flew around and around in strange paths before butting up against each other like two rams on a cliff. Each one seemed to pause before letting themselves drift back down to Cas. Remembering that they had someone watching.

Watching the play fight, it was almost easy to think that they didn't care that they were both dead. That they were reduced to simple impulses and energy. The break in the dire mood was welcomed and Castiel grinned at his friends. The souls send out a single pulse of light and seemed to be recharged a little from the levity.

He felt the water currents shift and change and turned to see the shore not far away. He had to push to avoid any rip tide or undertow if there was one present that he didn't see. Cas tried not to use too much of the borrowed energy to reach the shore and collapsed on the half rock/half sandy ground.

The souls were hovering around him for at least a few minutes before deciding to check out the area. Satisfied that he was in no danger of slipping back into the waters. Castiel was worried they would forget, and leave him there while some Reaper finds them and takes them away, but they returned again, swapping sides to explore, or investigate. The motives for their movements was hard to sparse for his exhausted mind.

Cas watched the lights pulse sometimes. He started to drift off, right there on the beach. Shifting his body to lay on his back in a slightly more comfortable position. His eyesight and awareness was fading so he couldn't tell which one it was, but one of the bundles of smoky light stood guard while the other kept circling around. He wanted to tell whoever it was to lay lower to the ground, but he was asleep before he could get the words out.

 


	3. Shed Some Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some introspective thoughts from the iridescent beings.

Chapter Three:

Shed Some Light

 

 

 

'Dean?'

'Yeah?'

'Cas is sleeping now.'

'Good.'

'So what's the plan?'

'You think I know?'

'Ok, fair enough.'

'We're safe here for now, Sammy. We'll wake him up if someone comes to this spot.'

'Where are we anyway?'

'No idea.'

'Dean?'

'Yeah?'

'I'm... I'm scared man.'

'…. Me too.'

'I mean, there were so many Reapers there...'

'I know. But you, my baby bro. You had a great idea.'

'What idea? The one where we nearly died boosting his angel mojo?'

'Better then what I was coming up with.'

'Which was....'

'Screaming until we were sent to the empty.'

'Yeah, I suppose.'

'Don't sound so depressed, Sam. I can see you fading over there. Think happy thoughts!'

'Me? What about you? Being like this, so transparent...'

'Hah!'

'Shut up, I mean I can tell what you're thinking and feeling, Dude. Not just that we are see through.'

'I'm fine.'

'Sure you are, Dean.'

'I'm _fine_ Sam! I mean, _look at us_! We are still _here_! Cas didn't get exploded or stabbed or sent to the empty along with us. Dude, I'm damn near sparkling with joy.'

'The Reapers aren't gonna stop looking for us.'

'We survived another day.'

'We _died_ today.'

'Semantics.'

'Dean, do you even... never mind.'

'Just watch sleeping beauty down there. I'm gonna keep an eye out'

'Ok. Be careful, Dean. It's dark out so we are probably noticeable as hell out here.'

'People might just think we're lanterns or something.'

'….'

'I'll be careful. Happy?'

'Better. Hey, Dean.'

'Aughhh _whaaat_?'

'Thanks for... for trying to save... for coming when I... and I'm sorry, oh God I'm so sorry I couldn't...'

'No, gonna stop you right there. There is to be no chick flick moments.'

'Dude, I think you mean Bic flick moments!'

'Really Sam? Bic lighters?'

'Cause, you know, we're made of _lights_.'

'Lame Sam. Lame. Even for you. That in itself should be a thing to behold, so Kudos! Listen. You wanna be the one to float around out here? I haven't even gotten five feet away yet. I need to scout the area. Quit yapping and get back to making sure Cas doesn't die on us.'

'Jerk.'

'Bitch.'

 

'Hey Dean. I think it's gonna be morning soon.'

'Hmm?'

'Sun's coming up over the water.'

'So it is. Weird how time is moving for us now.'

'I think it's because we don't have a body anymore. Our natural circadian rhythm is all fucked up.'

'Pppffft I didn't know a ball of soul-light could curse!'

'Dean, you were cursing up a storm the second you figured out how to talk like this.'

'You were too!'

'Only 'cause you were! You were freaking out and that made me freak out and _fuck_ , the Reapers were blasting the windows and doors and it's just. It was intense!'

'Gotta admit Sam, It was kinda cool though.'

'Right. Cool. 'Cause I see a gang of Reapers coming into the room, determined to eliminate us in ways we can't imagine, and immediately think, ' _Wow_ , that looked awesome!"

'Hey, Theater kid.'

'I swear to God, Dean...'

'Embrace your high-school Thespian-hood. Tell me, Spielberg, how much money it would cost to make up something like that on screen. Or even us just floating in space here, glowing it up like nobody's business. Special effects guys would have wet dreams about that showdown. But, it's hard to tell what it would look like for normal people at that moment. You know, since we can see in every single direction now, it might have looked different to us then to guys with proper eyes that stayed inside their heads. We're able to see everything everywhere around us now. It should be confusing. I don't know how we lived our whole lives not seeing the world this way. Hell, we only saw Cas's wings like a handful of times, and now I can count how many feathers he's got left. His halo is just barely there. That was freaky seeing Cas as he really is underneath the vessel that first time. And reapers true form... fuck, I'd hate to see what demons really look like. Got a glimpse when the hell-hounds were after me when my deal was up, but I bet it's nothing like if we saw them now. Nothing in the way. I'm getting used to it now. Our sight was so _limited_ before. And I don't even have a headache thinking about it, seeing all this, this way.'

'No head to have a headache, Dean. No binocular vision to see in just one direction. Also, no brain synapses to filter out the white noise. Humans track movement, our vision was complex but even humans can't see every color out there. The bullet shrimp for example sees loads more colors then people. I bet our current vision is similar, where we are just perceiving everything. Cas's wings were never truly invisible, just invisible to humans. We aren't really human anymore, so we can see them all the time along with everything else that's always been here that we just couldn't see. Like, over there, perfect ultra violet, and those radio waves coming from space.'

'Nerd.'

'Who knows, maybe this is what angels without vessels see. I can't really focus all that well on specific stuff. Fine details. Uh, not yet, working on it. I'm just glad that we remembered Cas so fast. Dean, we are _damned lucky_ that we somehow became aware of ourselves and our lives before this. And that could sense our surroundings. When ya think about it, our vision should change along with our shifting shapes, but, as far as I can tell, it's always spherical vision. Like were seeing out of our inner core and not from the outside edges. I don't know about you, but I'm seeing myself when I pulse at Cas.'

'Ditto. It's like looking through fog, but the fog is us.'

'We keep changing shapes but are overall glowy soul stuffs that sticks close to itself. _Ourselves._ Hard to wrap my head round it. I keep thinking this is like remote viewing. That these aren't really what we are now. Communicating outside of our chatting right now by simply doing this... energy pulse, is, well it's like normal now.'

'Yup, that makes sense. Our current forms and brightness or darkness are like showing the real us. I think you got a handle on it better then I do, Sam. I can't just pulse on command. It's like someone telling ya to do a backwards cartwheel. It's not easy. Can't just flip it on and off. I'm not explaining myself right. It's just... we both just show off our emotions. I should be ticked about that... showing all the world what we're feeling any given moment.'

'Yeah, like the literal sparks you shoot when you loose your shit.'

'Eloquent, Sammy.'

'I thought so. Oh hey, Cas is waking up.'

'Fucking finally. There's nothing to look at or do out here. Not a living soul around.'

'Were you..? Were you trying to make a pun, Dean?'

'Yeees?'

'Needs work, Dean. Hey, he's kinda... moving funny. Do you think he's got a concussion?'

'Hmm? Lemme see. Ah, naw. He's fine.'

'He's holding his head in his hands. Hes probably hungry, or thirsty.'

'Yup... think you're right. Let's go lead this horse to water.'

 

Castiel tasted something foul on his tongue. Realizing it was probably residue from the water made him try and spit it out but he had no saliva and his tongue was replaced with sandpaper. His head was throbbing something fierce. The grace healed some of the wounds from the water landing, but he still felt all around terrible. Groaning, he turned to his side and coughed into the sand and rocks. Several dug into his legs and he shuffled to a smoother spot to breath through the stiff cramping muscles.

It was cold here. Getting lighter out then before so it must be about 5:30 or 6 am, depending on where they ended up. His internal compass was spinning and making him a little dizzy if he focused on it too hard. The immediate area surrounding him had tall grasses, at least, from his limited vantage point. The beach must be sheltered enough to keep waves from crushing more rocks into sand. So it probably was a calm lake he'd landed in, not a wide river or sea. He knew it wasn't the ocean since it was freshwater instead of salt. Another clue was the fact that his eyes didn't burn or were overly crusty when the water dried on them, like they would have if it had been salt water. Small miracles. The weather here was pleasant if a bit cool from overnight.

He liked thinking of simple things. He felt at peace here, despite the aches in his muscles and head. No evil presence for at least fifty miles which was a great relief. Safe. He sighed and laid back down again to just breath and let his mind and body wake up.

Memories of last night came back to him in a sudden rush and he jolted upright, but the sudden change in position gave him a fresh headache and he cupped his head in his hands. Rubbing at the temples. He peeked an eye up and saw a glowing light of a soul not too far ahead of him. Spinning and swirling into itself a few times and he turned his tender head to the side and saw the other ball of light. Brighter now then last night, even with the slowly rising sun.

Cas exhaled a sigh of relief. The souls of his adoptive family were already healing themselves. Recovered from all of the excitement last night. Somehow looking more alert. If that's the best way to describe floating masses of light and intent. He grinned at the knowledge that his own grace might look similar to an outside observer. Human souls were a bit more rounded when they aren't moving too much, with angel grace more elongated. Cas shook his head minutely at the inquisitive tilt in the soul's countenance ahead of him. It dipped forward as if trying to see him clearer from the six or so feet between them.

“Good morning.” His voice croaked and at the sound, both souls came bounding closer and inspecting his head and torso from where he was hunched over. A faint buzzing sound in the air around them. He barely noticed it before, dismissing it. Now it sounded like a strange form of speech. The pauses and inflections of words without words. Cas listened for a few minutes as he willed his headache to go away. No idea what to do now that they were far away from the Reapers. He was still warded against them as well as the holy host with his special tattoos, and somehow the Winchester's souls weren't drawing them in like a beacon.

They _should_ have been, though... By all rights all Reapers should have been able to zero in on them by now, hours later they've been in this same spot. Their luck wouldn't last forever. Cas knew he shouldn't risk anymore time laying around, and started to get to his feet before falling back down again.

Dean's soul came in close, hovering near his chest before stroking his shirt upwards. Energy seeped past the clothing towards his skin and he felt it warm his vessel. As much as he was loath to admit it, he needed that small boost to get to his feet and not fall over again.

Cas lifted up his hands, held out to keep Dean from giving even more. At least this time, it didn't drain Dean nearly as much. Still bright as ever and buzzing at Sam who was about ten feet over his head.

“Thank you.” He said to Dean then again up to Sam. “I appreciate you both.”

Dean's soul bobbled a little before moving around him and dipping very close to the water that lapped the shore. He never interacted with the water, since he was not corporeal, or had a body, but it appeared that Dean was trying to convey a message to him. It was nothing like charades with proper limbs, just balls of wispy light that were more or less, as large as a basketball most of the time. Dean kept on dipping towards the water before heading to Castiel's face. He leaned back at the sudden intrusion of personal space as Dean flew directly towards his mouth.

Cas sucked in air in surprise as Dean buzzed his lips and then darted off to the water again. Bobbing about and heading for his face again. Cas was able to stand his ground this time as Dean came towards his mouth. Cas watched the whole bizarre act before Sam spun around Dean and then in the air, he bobbed about down and up five times in different ways. Since that failed to convey the soul's message, the brothers sparked at each other some more before Sam split off again and forced his light to dim.

Cas was worried something was wrong but then his light came back fully. Then pulsed again, faster. The soul wiggled side to side, and then started pulsing light. Realization dawned on him while watching the repeating patterns of light. Sam was communicating with Morse code with his very own life force light. Such a feat had never been done before. Of course, _none of this_ had been done before, but it was performed nonetheless, just to spell out the word, 'drink'.

Dean tried to pulse like Sam had done, but found it too difficult and sparked instead at Sam then drooped down to sulk among the grass.

It certainly cleared up the reason for Dean's actions. He was trying to give Cas some water. Humans were no easier to understand now then they were before. Just floating balls of energy and they still somehow manage to confound the angel.

“I'll get some water.” He said aloud and the souls came towards him again, hovering about level with his chest. “I shouldn't drink this water though... I'll have to find some elsewhere.”

At that, Sam and Dean spun around him once to get him to face the land again and both headed in the same direction. It seems as though they found some for him. Sam came back towards Cas to 'walk' with him, while Dean led the way. Castiel wondered how long he'd been out since they had enough time to wander apparently a full mile from the shore to a boat house that was located in a rough cove down the shore. It would have been too difficult to follow the shore, with the amount of fallen trees and driftwood, so the brothers were leading him with the easiest path possible.

Castiel was grateful that they were considerate of his limits. Since no one had really let a soul wander the Earth without being pulled to Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, no one knew what they'd be capable of. It was the general consensus that they were mindless and needed to be captured and taken to their final destinations. Ghosts stayed put where they'd died or where their remains were, so it was confusing as to why and how Sam and Dean were able to move so freely. And especially how they retained their intelligence. He longed to be able to understand their strange buzzing speech. Maybe he'll pick up and learn it after awhile. They understood him just fine and he gladly added that to the list of 'good things' about this, amid all of the bad.

As Castiel stumbled along, following Dean's light ahead, he thought about their situation. If their bodies were atomized and scattered, then technically, their bodies were everywhere at once. Their souls are free to wander wherever there was a cell or atom from their old bodies. The Reapers had just made their own job harder by doing that. If they'd left the bodies alone, Sam and Dean should have snapped right back towards them right after Cas landed, or limited to where they'd had remains or objects their souls could attach to that meant a lot to them.

Perhaps this is why the Reapers couldn't find them now. Because technically, Sam and Dean hadn't left their bodies yet. It was harder to narrow their location down. He smirked at that.

Castiel knew that it was unlikely that the Reapers would try and put the bodies back together again, their duties demanded strict attention. It was different if it was a one minute event – toss Winchester's into void – then go back to work, than if they had to spend more time hunting and searching for them. They couldn't expend the effort to search as easily. Not without hundreds of souls going unattended and potentially roaming free. There would be chaos. Reapers had to Reap, not hunt.

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. They had time.

 


	4. This Little Light of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't prank angels.

Chapter Four:

This Little Light of Mine

 

 

 

Dean and Sam swapped places halfway along the way. Dean now hovered at Cas's side while Sam led them into a half hidden boathouse that was covered in vines and foliage. It connected to a small tributary outlet of water, able to access the larger lake further down. The location for this place must have been on purpose to keep it hidden from the immediate view of others on the lake. So private that Cas didn't immediately recognize it for what it was until he shoved at the door to gain entry. He coughed in the dust and spiderwebs that fell from the motion while Sam entered to give him some light in the dark room. His blue eyes scanned around and spotted a sad looking nautical vessel tied inside. A good seven feet of dock around the boat, and a makeshift garage door that hovered above the water to help keep the boat inside the building, and bigger debris out. It made it humid in there, but bearable with the front door open.

Castiel grimaced at the scent of mold in the air and looked to the souls floating around the place that helped illuminate the room for him. Whether that was their intent or not, it was welcomed. There wasn't much in the room that was useful, a wrap around counter filled with rusting junk and broken pieces of boats and supplies. Life vests that had been turned into mouse nests. He was surprised the boat was still able to float with how the rest of the place was in such shambles. Castiel wondered why they dragged him here. He saw Sam go towards the boat and bobbed repeatedly over one of the boat's seats, and he cautiously boarded and looked at what Sam was trying to indicate. There, were two glass bottles of wine that were carefully packed, but more importantly, several plastic gallons of water tied down by their handles.

Cas grinned appreciatively towards the brothers before untying the rope that kept the jugs from shifting around, and drank it greedily. It tasted terrible. But at least it was safe. He normally wouldn't need food or drink, but he'd used up a lot of his grace in that flight, it wasn't entirely the Winchester's power. He would take a few more days to heal himself, the time cut in half if he took care of his body with the vessel's human needs.

He searched for some food that hadn't spoiled, but that's where his luck ended. Sam looked apologetic, sinking a little in the air, but Cas simply reached forward to tickle his fingers along Sam's wisps of light. Sam sparked in surprise at the touch, and shivered visibly.

Dean fell out of the air and sprawled on the ground. Twitching and rapidly pulsing light.

Castiel's voice came out clearer now that his throat was eased, “Is this what you refer to rofling?”

Now Sam joined in as he too dropped from the air to roll on the floor, laughing. Cas beamed at their antics and it felt good to get them to laugh. The jugs of water were placed on the ground followed by the bottles of wine just before he climbed up and off of the boat. Finding a mouse chewed bag and shaking it out before using it to haul the water and wine. Sure that no one was coming back to this boat anytime soon, and even if they did, it was highly unlikely that they'd miss the water.

He brushed off a space for himself on the bench as he watched the brothers interact. It felt good. Peaceful. The dread and hopelessness he'd been surrounded in lightened a little. Yes, they were dead, but, they weren't _gone_. Not yet.

The angel leaned against the wall in his seat and drank some more stale water. His stomach rumbling. That got the souls to come in close again, only hovering around his knees like they were sad they couldn't feed him.

“I'm fine.” He said and straightened out his trench coat from the wrinkled state it was in. Sand coating it along with dried algae and caked mud. He knew he didn't look 'fine'. Shrugging at them, unconcerned.

The brothers started exploring again, making that faint buzzing sound sometimes and Castiel started dozing again. Hating how tired he was.

 

'Man, he looks rough.'

'Not as bad as last night, Sammy.'

'True. But. We need to find him some food.'

' _Soul food_ isn't gonna cut it is it?'

'That is a terrible pun. Even for you, Dean.'

'Come on, you thought it was funny.'

'Whatever.'

'Well, we ain't gonna find anything here but tetanus and the plague.'

'Can we even get sick?'

'Dunno, Sammy. I know we can loose strength when we juice Cas up. Same difference.'

'Cas doesn't want us giving him any more.'

'Yeah. I noticed that too. But what was I supposed to do? Dude was gonna drown in that lake. I had to. And if I didn't zap him this morning, he'd still be on that beach.'

'Dean, I wasn't saying _don't_. I was just saying we don't _need to_ if he's not in danger. Right now, he's just tired.'

'I hate not being able to help.'

'I know, Dean. But, look at it this way, we are helping as much as we can. We're just souls now. All we have is our energy. We can't touch or move anything. We can only give or take energy.'

'I could tell Cas was thinking really hard on the way over here. Wouldn't say what it was out loud. But, he seemed happy after he made up his mind about whatever it is.'

'He'll tell us if it's important.'

'Yeah... hey! Dude! Sammy, check it out! I'm a lamp!'

'… Ok, that's kinda funny. Wonder what Cas would say when he sees the old timey lantern all lit up.'

'Wake him up!'

'Ok, I guess we've been here for a few hours, going by the sun. So weird how time's flying by.'

'Yeah, but it's doing it more while he's asleep, you notice that?'

'Huh. Weird.'

 

Castiel woke when he felt a slight tingle on his chest and lifted his heavy eyelids to peer out at the ball of light. Sam, he identified, bobbed around before darting up and away as if startled. Castiel yawned heavily into his hand. Squinting in the lamplight. He blinked in the surroundings and saw Sam slowly circling the room. Making a few laps without even trying to interact with him or...

Something was off. “Where's Dean?”

Sam kept up his circling and didn't seem to hear, or, was ignoring him. A tingle of fear crept up into Cas's chest, replacing that warmth that he'd gotten from Sam's brief contact. A disturbing thought occurred to him as Sam kept on circling overhead like a bored caged animal. What if Sam wasn't even aware of his surroundings? What if he was just pacing the room without even thinking about it? Dean was _gone_ , and Sam didn't seem to _care_. “Sam? Sam. Where is your brother.” Castiel spoke slowly, tracing the path the soul was making as it bobbled then returned to making slow laps around the shed. His stomach roiled and his chest felt tight.

Cas stood up abruptly. The urge to move overriding the dizziness of getting up too fast. “Dean?” He rounded the boat in the center of the open room, and checked under the hold, lifting up boxes and ropes. Souls didn't have to move things to get anywhere so Dean could very well be _inside_ the Earth for all he knew. “Dean!” His heart started pounding. Throwing things here and there, no glow, no buzzing sound. No Dean. And Sam didn't even _care_. That meant that he might also leave without a trace or purpose.

“Sam?! Where is Dean? Where is he?!” Castiel lifted his hands as if to catch the soul as it came around again in its loop.

The soul's light swirled around the hands, and dipped away to his side. Avoiding collision. A few sparks lighting up the place. Cas couldn't tell if it was annoyance at nearly being caught, or surprise that something got in the soul's way.

Just then, the lamp in the corner became very bright and Cas shielded his eyes from it for a moment, peeking through his fingers when the lamp seemed to hover up from the table and he realized with a start that Dean had been hiding in plain sight. A prank?!

Cas let out a whoosh of air. Feeling off balance and relieved at the same time. At least, as long as it took him to make those few steps over to the hovering soul that sparked in amusement, to grab it firmly between his hands and pull it down to his face.

He glared at Dean who stopped his teasing sparks, and started to shiver in his unyielding grip. Dean was forgetting that as an angel, he can hold and contain the soul with ease. His hands shook as several emotions roiled inside him. He thought that his family had forgotten themselves. Like dying a second time. Castiel couldn't survive loosing them again. Not like that. His great concern for them was warring with other feelings he had, anger winning out. They didn't realize how much that prank _hurt_ him. “Don't you ever do that to me again!”

Sam quivered a little nearby, watching. Sinking in the air.

“I thought you were...” Cas's voice broke and he hung his head, lowering Dean a little in his hands. He breathed heavily to calm himself down. He finally looked at the light in his hands and opened up the cage his fingers had made. Dean stayed put, shrinking in size under that weighted gaze.

Cas forced himself to relax. The poor soul was so scared. His heart lurched at causing that fear. Souls were pure, they didn't intend grievous harm on others. Even if the negative result was obviously unintentional, Sam and Dean's souls felt guilt for the trick they pulled, not to mention, fear for what Cas could do as retaliation. He didn't need to understand their new language to see that.

Years ago, Dean had admitted to him, one drunken night, that the first year he'd known the angel, Dean was afraid of him. His power. On an instinctual level. Gradually looking past it to see Cas for who he is and not just what he is. Castiel promised to 'tone it back' for people that didn't know what lay beneath his minimalist facial expressions. Figuring out how to present himself in a more human way to assure people around him that he is a friend to humans.

Right now, Dean was reminded that Cas still had immense power over them. Even in this weakened state. Sam didn't have to be grabbed to see that he too could be captured and held against his will just as easily. Castiel felt his own guilt creeping up. Reminding himself that they didn't mean it. They were trying to make a joke and he's the one that took it the wrong way.

“That was a good prank.” He said, chuckling, and opened up his hands all the way, inviting Dean to take off again but the soul stayed put. Tracing his fingers with a few of those see through tendrils of light. Ashamed.

Sam came in as well and hovered close to Dean, rotating around the hands. A moment passed with none of them moving. Just, taking a minute to collect themselves. Dean started to hover as well, just barely a few inches above the hands, still small and tight. His light becoming more solid the smaller it was. Cas watched as Dean spread himself out a little and flew up slowly to Cas's face. There were no features of course, but Castiel knew that Dean was taking a really good look at him.

Castiel cleared his throat and smiled reassuringly at his friend. He winked and said, “We'll have to remember that trick if someone comes near.” and nodded firmly. He reached past Sam and lifted up the broken lantern and stood up straight again from his hunched over position. Breathing through his nose to get rid of the lingering fear in his own body from the thought that he'd lost them.

Cas stretched out his back and started for the opening where a door had once been. Sam darting out just behind him, with Dean dragging his feet, so to speak. Cas knew he'd have to show them that he trusted them to follow him, and made for the top of the hill nearby.

Cas wanted to get a better idea where they were. Finally locating the trail that the people who used to own the boathouse took to get to and from the shore, he started at a leisurely pace down the path. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the souls to go back to playing around him. Teasing insects and animals along the way. Keeping themselves busy as Cas walked. They came upon a few empty houses that the brothers checked out, partnering up and inspecting every room for usable things and coming back empty handed to the street where the angel stood waiting. Forming their own visual communication with Cas so they didn't have to rely on Morse Code, as it seems to wear Sam out to do it too much.

They found a house that must be a summer home, that had some food in it, and the souls were eager for Cas to get to it. He wasn't well versed on lock picking and the brothers couldn't help at all, so Dean just kept zipping back and forth through a window close to the door knob. Encouraging Cas to break it, so, he did. The lock gave on the inside, and both souls went through the walls straight for the kitchen's store room. Only half remembering that Cas can't zip through walls.

“Thank you.” He praised and found some of the pop top cans of food that didn't need a can opener, and dug into cold creamed corn. Moaning at how delicious it was. He could practically hear Sam say, 'hunger is the best spice,' at him and grinned in agreement. He tucked into another can of food and drank some of his saved water. The water in the house was shut off for the season.

Cas longed for a shower. He went to the bathroom and sacrificed the remains of one of his water jugs for the cause. It did the trick, and he felt refreshed after the simple wipe down. He borrowed a set of clothes that were about his size and noticed Dean come back into the bathroom once he was done changing. Dean politely suggested one of the decorative bottles of cologne and he nudged the soul for the wry nonverbal comment.

“You don't even have a nose.” and got a soul shrug in return. He relented, picking out the one Dean seemed to like and once it was on, the soul left him again.

He debated for a moment, thinking about if he needed anything else in the room and deciding against it. This was not his house, and he was already leaving a dirty mess in the tub and floor. He brushed down his trench coat of the dried dirt and plant matter that latched on during his swim. Seeing that he's just making a bigger mess here, he took it outside and started beating the coat with his fist to dislodge the rest of the dust. It looked alright, not pristine, but better looking. All the while, Sam and Dean were wandering again. Popping in and out of the walls to check up on him, making sure he's staying out of trouble on his own. He had to laugh at that.

Castiel parked himself in the living room and idly stared at the blank TV screen. Sam joined him on the adjacent love seat, with Dean inspecting the TV set up now. Buzzing the electronics and sparking in delight that he could get them to work for a few seconds. Sam's soul rolled in on itself in debate before joining his brother and they got the TV to show static for ten seconds before leaving it again, tired but satisfied. Dean attacked the lights in the different lamps next, making one of them shatter and sending both souls scattering away from the small explosion.

Castiel laughed at their antics and that earned him a close fly by or two from Dean. Trying to make the angel flinch. Cas just raised a hand to catch Dean the next time around and Sam came to the 'rescue' and buzzed the back of Cas's head just enough to distract him and let Dean escape.

“You two are working well together, as always.” He noted and both souls brightened a little before buzzing quietly at each other. Cas longed to hear what they were saying.

 

'Ok, Sam, so we got Cas some food, now what.'

'We could head back to the bunker... try and figure something out.'

'I don't know what there is to figure out. We're door nails.'

'When's that stopped us before, Dean?'

'We don't have the advantage of having bodies this time around. And trying to sell our souls is a moot point since that's all we are now. And Reapers already called first dibs. Angels or demons won't help us now.'

'So, you felt it just like I did. The Reapers blew us to kingdom come. There are microbes bigger then our biggest chunks of flesh.'

'Yep.'

'This sucks.'

'Amen to that little brother.'

'At least we got Cas free of the blast.'

'For how long.'

 

Castiel noticed that they looked dimmer now. Upset, almost. He's able to tell what they might be feeling with better accuracy now that he's watching them interact. The overall situation at their hands is probably the cause of their depression.

Castiel knew what might make them happy, and give them purpose. Returning to the bunker for one, before someone else hears about their sudden demise and tries to take over the bunker in their absence. He knew that both consider it their duty to look after the Men of Letters building, and all of the precious knowledge and artifacts inside, but mostly because it was their _home_. So it's decided. That was their destination. Sam and Dean were going home.

 

 


	5. Light the Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angels on bicycles and possessed sparrows and squirrels, this road trip isn't quite like the others...

Chapter Five:

Light the Way Home

 

 

Castiel drank the rest of his water and waited for the bright swirling clouds of soul to float back over to him. “I think we should head back to the bunker.” Both brightened a fraction then came close to his chest. Cas could tell that they wanted to discuss it, or at least, make their wishes clearly known.

“All those in favor, over here.” And held out his right hand. Both went over and swirled around the outstretched hand eagerly. That was easy enough. “Alright.” He smiled warmly at them. “We can use this as a kind of 'yes and no' answers. My left side is 'no', the right is 'yes'.” They bobbed to the left then right to show they understood. “Not to offend left handed people of course.” Castiel added, realizing belatedly how that might be misconstrued as rude and got a few sparks from the souls in amusement. He considered changing it, but decided against it to reduce the risk of confusion later on.

He got up from the couch and discarded his old soiled clothes into the trash, and straightened out his striped green and brown 'borrowed' t-shirt and faded blue jeans that were a little too large for him. A belt was the final 'borrowed' item of clothing that he felt alright taking.

Sam insisted that he follow him into the kitchen and both were circling around the phone book. He lifted it up, “You want me to call someone?”

They went to his left side.

Cas frowned and flipped through the beginning pages and realized that they probably meant for him to look at the local maps there. He studied them, getting a better idea where they were in relation to the bunker and tore out the map part of the phone book before putting it back. They were surprisingly close to Lebanon, Kansas, only three hours by car. If they only had a car...

Cas did one last walk through the house, but nothing jumped at him that would be useful for them besides a plastic grocery bag to hold his limited possessions. He wrote a simple, 'Thank you' note and put it on the table. He blocked the hole in the broken window with some tape in the junk drawer to keep out insects or birds, and locked the door behind him. Hoping that the broken window wasn't going to be too hard to replace by the owners.

He checked out the garage for a vehicle, but found only a couple of bicycles hanging from the rafters inside. Frowning severely at them. Walking wasn't ideal, but at least he knew he wouldn't fall over doing it. Dean caught onto his hesitation. Castiel hoped that it was because Dean remembered that conversation ages ago where the angel admitted to never knowing how to ride a bike before. To spare him the humiliation of admitting it out loud again, Dean apparently didn't mention it to his brother who was checking out the houses circuit breaker. Castiel pulled the larger bike down and was glad the tires still had air. Small favors. Having the ability to teleport made all slower forms of transportation moot.

Dean appeared to be trying to teach him in how to ride a bike, sympathetic to his limited experience around them, when Sam noticed and seemed to be finding it kind of funny. Dean hummed something at Sam who looked cowed at the near silent berating, and wandered off a bit to let Dean have the floor. Watching from the garage door switches as Dean tried his damnedest to teach without words or even limbs. Bouncing around the bike and sparking here and there.

Sam buzzed the garage door button a few times before the current of soul energy synced up with electrical energy and it reluctantly rumbled to life, lifting the creaking door up overhead.

Castiel knew he couldn't let Sam's accomplishment nor Dean's training be for naught, so he reluctantly decided to try and ride. The brothers were doing their best to help, it was the least he could do.

He was thankful they had elbow and knee pads and a helmet nearby, and wasted no time putting them on. Taking a bit too long to adjust it for his larger frame then the child's body that the safety gear was intended for. The colors on them were bright purple and he smiled at that. Purple was the color of royalty, and surely, he could not be seen as foolish in that regal hue. He altered the slightly too small purple sparkled helmet one last time, and straightened out his back as he faced the brothers to see if they had any final adjustments or bits of advice to give him before they head out.

Both souls sputtered light and brief sparks, before disappearing into the house for a few minutes. Lights seeped from the door frame, flickering in a familiar way that happened when they were... oh... when they laughed.

Cas didn't care... much. He was following the guidelines that he'd remembered from watching Tv. Safety first. However, his range of motion in his arms was hampered, so the elbow pads were taken off, but the helmet had to stay. Castiel didn't want to end up with a concussion if he fell from this geared contraption. His bag of things went into the pink basket on the front and he pulled it alongside him out the garage.

The brothers finally came back out when they'd heard the garage door closing again to see Castiel walking the bike to the street. Rushing to catch up and hovered a little lower then before. Sorry that they'd laughed at him. Castiel gave them a grin to show he wasn't mad at all. He was just learning new things about humans and what they do to get around. Putting those years of observation to good use.

He climbed on and tried peddling like he'd seen done before on sidewalks and a few movies, but found his balance and tempo sorely lacking. He settled on scooting along with his feet stretched out on both sides, using the bike to support his weight while his feet propelled him forward. Cutting the walking time in half, if not more.

He mentally shrugged. There was no one else around besides the deceased, and it was faster then walking to a promising town. Eventually he found a good balance as he moved his legs and feet in an overly exaggerated walk. At least one foot in constant contact with the ground. After an hour of this, he risked peddling with one foot while the other jut out in case he needed it to stop. It also helped keep him from falling over, but it did not last long as it was tiresome without the other foot pressing down on its opposite peddle to lift the first peddle back up again. Resorting to scooting again.

The whole experience of learning how to ride had helped pass the time as they made their way towards the bunker. Nothing but fields and forests hugging the empty roads. A few cars passed him, each time the brothers dove into the foliage nearby and Castiel stood guard for those few seconds the cars took to pass them. No one offered him a ride, and he knew it was likely due to the fact that he 'technically' already had one. He couldn't, however, bring it in him to ditch the useful bike on the off chance that someone might see his trench coated self, and _not_ immediately think he's an ax murderer. The long tan coat was wadded up inside the basket at the moment, but if he were walking, he'd have to wear it. Therefore, seen as a cliched dangerous hitchhiker.

He went back to scooting. Well rested and eager to get back to the bunker just as much as his friends.

Sam and Dean were flying along beside him, as if they were ready to catch him should he fall. He found it endearing, if entirely pointless. He'd fall right through either of them. The sentiment was appreciated, however. Silently encouraging him to keep going. Keep trying.

After another hour, he started peddling at a flat bit of road, free of debris and grinned widely at being able to keep his balance. The bright souls bound joyfully around him and he peddled faster. He started going down a slight hill, picking up speed, and was about to panic when both souls shot straight to the handlebars and wrapped around his hands. He felt a slight pressure and squeezed the secondary handle bars and the bike slowed. Ah, of course, brakes. He lifted his index fingers to dislodge them and they tentatively let him ride the brake on down at a better pace.

Castiel found a beautiful shady bit of ground near the road, and stopped while he was ahead. Taking off the gear with care, panting from the workout. He must have ridden 40 miles so far. His grace was enough to keep him going but at the moment, he needed a breather. It seems the souls were eager to rest too, because they were content to just rest near the ground alongside him. Staring up past the tree's leaves to the partly cloudy sky above. They'd been traveling for over over half of the day and the break was welcomed. His water long gone, he had to break open the wine bottle and took a few large gulps of the fermented grapes as he sat cross legged in the grass.

Two small brown birds were swooping at each other in the sky, and suddenly came in close, bickering and squawking above Cas's half reclined body. Dean perked up at the squabble, lifting to get a better look when the birds darted down and around the tree in a tight loop. Not expecting him to be there, one of the small birds flew right towards him, and Dean's soul was accidentally taken along for the ride. The newly possessed bird froze and fell to the ground in a downward arch of soul lights and a few brown dislodged feathers. Sam was over there in an second and Cas scrambled to his knees towards the now flailing bird.

The bird was an Cassin's Sparrow and the other one, a Botteri's Sparrow that it had been chasing escaped into the sky without a backwards glance. Neither topped three inches in height.

Cas and Sam watched the small brown bird flop about before righting itself with splayed legs. It peeped at a spot in the middle distance, startled and breathing fast. It shook its pointed head and faced Sam then Cas and peeped again. Wings stretching out and down a few times, but very awkwardly, not enough downward force for flight. It cocked its head and looked down at its own body before the peeps turned into frightened shrieks as it jumped about. Cas reached forward and caught it in the dome of his hands and gently curled the fingers together underneath to enclose it within his hands. The tiny bird struggled for a few seconds before peeping again through the fingers. A moment passed as it calmed down a fraction.

Sam's soul came in close to investigate as well, and startled and sparked. Backing up a few inches as it swirled in confusion.

The birds eyes, while tiny, were glowing bright white.

“This isn't... this can't...” Castiel started and stopped. His left index finger tracing the small bird's head. Feeling that familiar warmth. “Dean?”

The bird peeped again and struggled in his grip that loosened up around him but didn't let go all the way. If this was Dean, but he wasn't in full control and trapped in the bird's body, theoretically the bird could take off with him and there'd be nothing they could do to stop it. So Castiel's hands stayed closed, but allowed enough space inside for the bird to right itself and move a tiny bit. Making it less claustrophobic.

“Dean...uhm. Peep twice if you're you.”

The bird ruffled its feathers in slight annoyance before peeping two times. Castiel's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline as his hands stilled completely in shock. “You're in full control? You're alright?”

The bird nodded up at him. Lightly pecking at the fingers nearby.

Sam wasted no time. The soul circled around them both and then darted up into the tree. Half a minute later, with both the bird and Castiel staring at the shaking leaves, a gray squirrel with white glowing eyes came down the trunk. Chittering in excitement, with a bobbing tail as it half fell, half climbed down the trunk. Coming right up to Castiel's knees. Tiny clawed paws catching on his faded blue jeans. A stub of a tail waving up and down behind the chattering animal.

“Sam.” Castiel deadpanned. Because of course it was him. For as much as Sam berated Dean for doing silly stunts, he was just as bad.

The squirrel nodded at his name, and sniffed at Cas's clothes. Castiel let go of Dean towards the ground and the small brown bird hopped down and over to the much larger gray squirrel. He started peeping and singing while Sam kept chattering at each other before both paused and shrugged. Well, Sam shrugged, Dean's feathers all lifted and fell at once.

“I take it you can no longer understand each other.” Clear nods from both. “Are you able to... leave these vessels?” Castiel wasn't comfortable with the idea that the mighty Hunters, the _Winchester's_ were going to be forever reduced to a two ounce Cassin's Sparrow, and a plump Eastern Gray Squirrel with half its tail missing.

Sam and Dean lifted themselves right out of the bird and squirrel without a problem, and before Cas could celebrate, or the animals to react, they'd swapped places. Castiel's jaw dropped as now Sam was a bird and Dean was starting to climb up onto Castiel's lap. Dean started chattering at Castiel and the tail was just waving up and down excitedly. Dean was much happier being a land animal over one meant to fly.

Cas let them have this moment. Knowing that the host animal bodies didn't seem harmed from being possessed in those few seconds between soul possessions. Sam and Dean kept trying to talk to each other and goof around while Castiel watched, reclining again in the grass. Sam flapped his tiny wings and actually got off the ground. Not as smooth of a flight as when he's a soul, but he was airborne for a number of seconds.

Dean chuffed at him and climbed up to Castiel's head and leaped for a low hanging branch. Failing at catching it, he landed on the ground and shook himself out. Pretending he intended to do that, he made for the tree trunk and started scaling the tree that way, but it was apparent that his fear of heights still existed, because he only got up so high before clinging tightly to the low branch he was on. Sam managed to fly up to it next, and peeped at Dean who ruffled his half tail at him. After a couple of minutes of trying to coax Dean down or up off of that branch, Sam gave up. The bright soul lifted away from the bird's body and it flew away shrieking into the sky. Sam followed after it for only a few feet before turning back to Dean who shook his head. He wasn't making any progress as a squirrel so he lifted up and out of the squirrel next. The squirrel took a bit longer to get back to itself, swaying on the branch. But when it did get it's equilibrium back, it also made a hasty retreat up into the tree. Looking frazzled but unharmed.

Both souls came back down to Cas, sparking with joy. The atmosphere felt happy and carefree and all of them were rejuvenated with it.

Cas was well rested enough to keep going, so he double checked the maps, stood, dusted himself off, (took a few more gulps of wine) and got back onto the bike to lead the way. The rest of the journey to the next small town went by faster, as Sam and Dean both started taking over random animals for their amusement. None of the creatures were harmed, just delayed in whatever they were doing and a bit spooked from being possessed. Sticking to what was readily available instead of pursuing larger animals deeper into the woods.

Seeing how happy it made them feel, to have solid bodies again, made Cas consider different ways of granting their wish than possession. They deserved to have a corporeal form, without having to steal it from another living being. Or, a dead one. Castiel doubted a deceased body would be easy for them to move, since there would be no life force to influence, no existing electrical impulses in the host's brain to urge with their soul's willpower.

He vowed to get them back. They'll find a way.

Not five miles down from their last resting spot, a pickup truck pulled over and offered Cas a lift. He thanked the woman profusely and unloaded the basket onto the ground while they got the bike into the truck bed. The souls tucked themselves into the folded trench coat while it was on the ground, keeping themselves small and their light hidden. Castiel's eyes scanned around and saw one of them flicker at him before ducking back inside the tan coat again to let him know they're good. He grinned and held his coat in his lap for the rest of the trip. The kind woman made a detour just for him to get to Lebanon and he swore to aid her when she needed it, handing out his personal phone number.

She handed it back, “When I was younger, someone helped me out on a road trip. I'm just paying it forward. You should too!” and smiled warmly at him. He promised to do so and waved goodbye.

The last two miles to the bunker from town was spent with the souls getting brighter and brighter the closer they got to their home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Cassin's Sparrow - https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Cassins_Sparrow/id   
> and Eastern Gray Squirrel - http://www.animalspot.net/eastern-gray-squirrel.html
> 
> to get an idea what they look like :) I've seen a squirrel in my neighborhood with half a tail for a few years now, named him, 'Bob'.


	6. Left the Lights On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome home guys!

Chapter Six:

Left the Lights On

 

 

The huge hill the Bunker resides within is finally in sight and it takes every ounce of willpower for the souls to stay at Castiel's side until he gets there. He sees their hesitation and excitement and appreciates their waiting and patience. If there was trouble ahead, he wasn't about to let them find it first with no one around to help. He mentions as much when it looks like their patience was wearing thin, that got them to pause visibly and stick with him like glue.

When Castiel's bike finally coasts down the slight slope to the entryway to stop ten feet from the door, he knows that whatever happens now it's on him to deal with. He leans the bike up against the rock wall and pulls his angel blade out. The souls give him a wide berth and he figures that they must sense its influence in that form. Some of the movies Dean had forced him to watch were fantasy themed and in nearly every one, the main characters weapon, usually swords, had a name and otherworldly power attached to it. Almost like it had a will of its own. Castiel knew his and all angel blades did carry a certain amount of power, but it was more in who was wielding it. It was a conduit for angels, not just a sharp knife. Humans could use them, but that was in part due to their souls unconsciously activating it. Demons too could use the blades because they were former humans and also have their own power. Archangels infused their blade with their powers and that made them nearly all powerful compared to every other weapon in existence, save for the ones that God Himself had touched and made.

These brothers were probably sensing the power that Castiel had in his own blade from when he was still fully angel. Before he lost most of his grace and the fall of the angels. It could destroy them, so it was fortunate that they stayed back from it, in case there was an accident. Castiel would never raise his blade to them, but, as Dean would say, 'shit happens' and it would just be their luck that Cas would trip on the front step and the knife would slice through one of their souls.

As if reading his mind, the brothers gave him an extra three feet of space on top of it, while he pulled out the key to the door. There was no sign of forceful break in, nor any indication that someone had even come by at all. With or without gaining entry. He needed two hands to open the heavy door so his blade was briefly slipped back into his coat and he motioned for the others to let him go in first. Dean sparked at him but was herded back by Sam to a spot just behind Cas.

Cas is grateful they'd left the key with him since it would be awkward to try and retrieve one from the dilapidated building that they'd died in. Especially after that long tiresome journey just to get here.

The door creaks open in that familiar, comforting way, and he leans in to look around the immediate corners. Hand on the hilt of his blade just in case, but the coast is clear and he sees that all of the lights are already on. The map on the consoles and wall blinking away like usual. Nothing appears out of place or amiss, and he breaths a sigh of relief.

“It's clear.” He announces with a grin, and walks in just fine. However, the brother's souls bounce off of the invisible boundary like glowing tennis balls.

Cas turns around just as he starts shutting the door behind him, to see that they're still outside.

“Are you coming?” He asks before realizing what happened. “Oh, that's right. The warding.”

He can hear them buzz at each other and Sam sinks a few inches before lifting again, like he's doing a pantomimed resigned sigh. Sam starts blinking his light and spells out Kevin's name. Castiel stops him before he gets too far in spelling out the word 'ghost' right after.

“Yes, I remember, Kevin Tran's ghost was able to leave the bunker when the object tethering him to this plane was removed. The ring his father wore, carried by his mother out of the door. Neither of you are tethered to an object... Ok, uhmm, here.” He says and stands outside again in between them. His hands reach out to them and they catch on to his intentions. Sam goes for the right hand like before and latches on, while Dean does the same with the left side and Castiel feels like that might not be enough. He gently pulls a very small part of them inside his own vessel. Slowly, so they don't get frightened.

“You both can enter my vessel without being harmed, I promise. I believe it will feel a bit like when you possessed the animals, or go through objects. You will not be held captive. I swear it. I'll ferry you inside and then release you again. Then you're free to do whatever you want inside the bunker. I will have to take you both into my vessel again to leave, but will not do any of this if you don't want to.” He waited a beat. Then another. Neither brother struggled in his very light grip of their souls, just a little apprehension, which he figured would be normal. It wasn't everyday that they were absorbed into an angel's vessel to mingle with his grace. When they had latched onto his wings to boost his power, it was their actions. This time, he needed to do it for them to mesh correctly.

They blinked at him once, so he took that as permission to continue. He nodded before pulling at them again, and he could feel the nervousness melt away into trust and the last wisp of light entered his hands. The angel felt the human souls sit still for a few seconds before discovering that they could explore the entirety of his vessel. His own grace felt charged with their presence, but knew that he wasn't taking any energy from them. It was a mutual benefit to be melded together like this. Each boosting the other like shared warmth on a cold day.

He paused on the doorstep to let them explore for a bit. Enraptured by the new space given to them. He knew they could access his memories and perhaps read his thoughts if they wanted to, but it was almost as if they understood this, and were respecting his boundaries. They stayed away from his head for the most part. Each only briefly taking a look out of his eyes. Long enough to be unnerved by the narrowed sight, and drifted downwards into his chest again. He waited while they roamed and got their curiosity back under control.

Castiel refused to comment that it tickled.

Even subconsciously, they were very respectful of his person, and never tried to take control as they had with the animals. He started moving forward again, taking the first step and reminding them of why they're in there. Both souls returned to the hands they entered the vessel from.

Castiel stepped inside the top landing again, and felt a tingle in his hands but nothing more. The warding allowing them all to pass the barrier without breaking it. When no alarms went off, nor warding spell triggered, he sighed, relieved.

“Sam, Dean, welcome home.” Cas lifted his hands and releases his hold on them and they rise up out of his forearms and hands. Both bob about, tipsy drunk on grace in the air. Spreading and swirling before coming back into themselves. A little disoriented at first, before pulsing a bit of light to let him know they're Ok. There must have been some minor addendum to a protection spell somewhere inside the bunker's warding, but they managed to withstand it and come out on top.

Oddly enough, it isn't till they've walked and floated into the library below, that Dean's light is pulsing too erratically to be read properly and Cas just assumes that it's excitement to be back home.

 

'Looks like its still secure, Dean.'

'Yeah. The place never looked so good. Glad those sigils were old enough to be basically useless against us.'

'That would have dampened our homecoming, to be blown away into the wall's prison capsules for all eternity.'

'Ruin your day. Ruin.'

'Yeah. So Dean, what did you want to do first?'

'Hell, I don't know, watch some Tv. I was going to say have a beer but I'm pretty sure those days are gone.'

'Cas could drink it and describe it to us.'

'Somehow I don't think that will be the same, Sammy. He may taste things more now, but he also talks about their base components.'

'You could teach him how to cook.'

'We befriended the only angel alive that could burn water. I don't want him blowing up my kitchen making ramen noodles or something. But, you're right. While we're in the Batcave, we can't exactly order in. I just. I like my kitchen the way it is. Organized. Clean. Efficient. Just like my Baby. Wait... oh _fuck_! Sammy! I can't believe I forgot about _Baby_!'

'Calm down, I doubt the reapers are going to do anything to the car.'

'Dude, you are _heartless_! I need to go get her!'

'And do what? Make her headlights flash? You probably haven't noticed, but we aren't really able to drive anywhere like this. And besides, it's like, four states away.'

'Tell Cas to grab one of the cars in the garage and and we'll...'

'Do nothing. Dean, he's fallen asleep at the table.'

'Aww man...'

'I'll get him into bed. Even traveling by car wears some people out. Long road trips are trying for an angel that's used to just zapping everywhere for his whole existence. He's still getting used to this kind of life. Compared to angels, humans live confusing, short lives, filled with eccentricities. I know this is nothing new to us, but sometimes I forget that he might feel like a fish out of water.'

'What are you talking about? He's been human before.'

'I just mean, think about it, Dean, things are different for him. No one knows what he's going through but him. He's lost most of his grace, but he's not entirely human. He's making it up as he goes for what to do, what needs to be done, to keep going with a purpose. He likes having a plan, and there isn't one for him. That's gotta be draining on a guy. I know he prefers to have a mission. Keep busy. He was a soldier. Even if he didn't always like being one.'

'Yeah. There's no big bad for us to fight besides the reapers. They aren't going to destroy the world, so that's a relief for right now. The little guy's probably tired from everything. Ok, fine. We'll let him get some shut eye and regroup. Better jot this down in your princess journal Sammy, gonna say something you never hear... You're right. We did just get home. Cas is sleeping and that should have clued me in that he's not feelin' too hot. And now I feel like an ass.'

'You're Ok, we'll discuss this later. I want to get the Impala back without battling reapers left and right, just as much as you do.'

'The second he's wide eyed and fluffy winged, we're gone. Capiche?'

'Capiche.'

 

Sam drifts down and sends a tiny spark into Cas's shoulder to rouse him. Cas startles and looks up at the offending soul and scowls heavily. Sam looks guilty. There must have been a reason for it so he waits with his head resting sideways on an arm flat on the table Sam starts to pulse light again, spelling out a three letter word.

Castiel blinks slowly at the light Sam's working on. Reading the message. “Bed. I believe that's a good idea.” He mumbles and yawns widely. The angel had seen how rough it can be to sleep at a table, having watched Sam and Dean do it countless times and always complaining about it after each occurrence. Sam backs off but Dean looks tense. Swirling in tight spins and hovering between Cas and the front door. He wonders if Dean was thinking about leaving.

“I wont be long, just need a nap. Don't go anywhere, please.” He knows that if they put their minds to it, they could figure out a way to leave the bunker on their own. Nullifying a sigil with their tiny sparks wearing away or burning part of the paint of a sigil is one way to render it useless. Just one of the first methods that pops into his mind, and he keeps it to himself. Castiel doesn't want the souls to leave while he's unconscious and feels a wave of protectiveness over them, with a heavy dose of guilt for keeping them here. They seem to be Ok for now. Sam is calmer here, Dean was too but then something must have happened after he laid his head down onto the table.

Sam is settling closer to waist height and following him further into the bunker towards the bedrooms. No doubt making sure he makes it alright to his room. Cas leaves his door ajar for them, even if they're able to move through doors and walls, it's the thought that counts. Castiel also makes it clear that he needs some personal space at the same time by keeping it mostly shut. It's hard to sleep with bright glowing souls hanging around. The only reason he could sleep before, was because he was just too tired to care. Suspecting it's more side effects from dealing with human souls so often. He is not a reaper, so the very act of interacting is still being worked on to make it seamless and easier. Thankfully, the bunker can be pitch black when they want it, so Cas is asleep before he knows it.

Sam lingers outside of the room until he hears the snores start up then goes back to find Dean circling the library.

 

'Dean. We should take a rest too. I'd say we earned it.'

'I don't want to. My Baby is out there all alone and ugh. I can't stand to think of what they've done to her.'

'I know, but we can't just charge back in there. And besides. Dean. We are _dead_. We can't even drive it when we do get it back.'

'No, but Cas can.'

'Once he's rested, we can go get her back. AFTER the reapers are all gone. Otherwise we would just be serving ourselves up on a platter for them.'

'Can't believe I'm actually suggesting this, but, what if we get someone to bring her here?'

'That... that might actually work.'

'Ok. So. Gotta think of someone that we trust, that's in that neck of the woods, and ring 'em up. I know we got a buttload of favors to call in. Pulled nearly every Hunter alive out of the fire at least once. So that shouldn't be a problem to call someone in.'

'Dean, we're gonna have to start thinking rationally. We might be able to buzz a cell phone but all of our communication is gonna need to be with someone in the same room. We can't influence anything that's not living or electrical.'

'I'll think of something. We always do.'

' _Later._ Come on. You need rest, I need rest, Cas certainly needs rest. The reapers don't give a shit about man made things. She'll be safe till we can get her home.'

'Fine.'

 

Dean let himself sink back down from the ceiling that was level with the door. He started heading off to his room and Sam followed. It just felt better to settle down in their own rooms. Dean let himself take in the sight of everything on his way, and marveled at how big it all looked. Everything had been big from the start, but it was different now. Here, was familiarity. Surrounded by the weapons he'd hung on his wall, the desk with the family photos propped up against his lamp. Some of the lore books scattered nearby. He drifted over to the dresser, and for some reason, was a little sad at never needing to wear clothes again. Even these clothes that they got from some army surplus store in a random town somewhere. Not even remembering the name of the state. It's not like they were special, but the fact that they weren't allowed even that bit of normalcy was sad to think about. Reduced to just... this. Existing.

Never able to use those weapons on the wall. To hold the photos. To take a long hot shower. To eat a meal. To save lives. To drive his Baby. To listen to Sam sing terribly off tune to the music coming out of the car's speakers, after griping that he never updated his playlist. To never again fool around with a woman. To never eat greasy cheeseburgers while laying out on the hood of his car, staring at the stars next to Sam.

It was crashing down on him, one object at a time, one memory at a time. One fact at a time. The painful reality that he's _dead_. That _Sam_ is _dead_. That this is all they are now. Do not pass Go, do not collect eternity in Heaven or hell, even Hell. When the reapers catch them, even this meager existence will be gone.

Dean sunk a little before drifted over to the desk and moved in closer to the photos. Staring at them with his new freaky soul vision. The faint overlapping smears of decades worth of fingerprints. Surprised that the photos hadn't yet been worn down to nothing yet. He could see the veil and everything clear as day now, and everything just looked slightly different. Felt different. He could feel the wards around him, the hum of electricity in the walls that mingled with the magic. The Earth's movements far below, shifting the continents one billionth of an inch at a time, if he concentrated on it long enough, he could feel a volcano erupting somewhere. Things were just different, and he couldn't even remember what they were truly like _before_.

Death had given everything a clean slate. A do over with a new form. If it can be called that.

Cas's wings were always visible to them now, and it gave them both pause whenever the feathers would move through solid objects like they weren't even there. Of course, now they could do that too, but the brothers didn't necessarily want to do it all the time. It felt... creepy, to move through objects. Reminding them they're otherworldly and supernatural. People would run screaming if they saw them now. Despite the fact that they too are just souls inside bodies. Humans aren't supposed to see souls. And souls aren't supposed to do anything like what he and his brother are doing, seeing. Unprecedented from the start.

Cas though, he was alright. They could immediately see and recognize Castiel as his true self. Not just the vessel anymore. The vessel belongs wholly to Castiel and it was nice to think that, the angel wasn't solely his grace. He'd lost it, became human, but was still just Cas. When he got it back, he was a bit more Cas then before, but it was still him. Like reattaching a lost limb. Poor analogy, but Dean didn't give a rats. He's trying to work this out in his mind and only then can relax.

The grace inside Castiel is working overtime to maintain his body, and he knows how worn out the angel is. Dean felt bad for wanting to push him even more. Telling himself to give it a day or two for things to settle. Sam was right, the Impala can wait a few days. Reapers don't give a shit about people's things. Just souls and whatever gets in the way of collecting them.

Dean never really had much growing up, so he cherished every belonging. Sam too had things he cared about, but they were more intangible. Knowledge and experience, family. Dean can't fault him for any of that, and agrees with his little brother, he just wished Sam had more creature comforts and visual representations of those bonds. Dean chided himself, getting all introspective again when he should be resting. He made another lap around the room, making sure that everything was as he left it, before settling down on the pillow. Glad that he could settle on top of, instead of falling right through, the soft pillow and memory foam mattress. Guessing it was like the time when they were ghosts while trying to save the reaper seal years ago. He didn't fall through the ground or anything he stepped on, because his mind said it was solid. Now, they could now pick and choose what to move through.

As he let his mind relax, he thought of Sam. How he was dealing with all this. Feeling so small in their own rooms.

He knew Sam's room was always sparsely decorated, but he was probably feeling the same things. Dean couldn't bring it in him to go to Sam just yet. No time for a damned slumber party. If his brother is already sleeping or whatever souls do to rest, he didn't want to interrupt. Dean managed to turn off his spherical perception of the room and fell into what souls would consider as sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise they wont be falling asleep quite so much in the future. I only just realized Cas has been doing that a lot. but traveling is rough!


	7. Some Light Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Research time!   
> Ok, enough of that, Break time!
> 
> Fyi, the points of view are going to start to blend together. Sam and Dean's thoughts and experiences that aren't expressed in dialog are going to be shown in more detail since it's hard to convey their side of things if they aren't talking to each other. I'll still have the separate dialogs, but, infused with the things that aren't able to be said out loud.   
> Sorry if it gets confusing!

Chapter Seven:

Some Light Reading

 

 

“Dean?”

Dean sparked at the sound and found himself feeling rejuvenated, lifting himself up off of the pillow and seeing Castiel standing overhead, leaning back. He saw Sam moving about his room, keeping a respectful distance from his stuff, acting like he was just pacing while waiting.

“Good, I was wondering why you didn't come when I called earlier. Did you have a good rest?”

Dean puzzled at that. How long was he out? Cas looked like he'd had showered, shaved, and had eaten a few hardy meals, after sleeping for a few days. Dean was grateful for how healthy Cas seemed now, he bobbed himself in the air like a head nod and made a ring around Cas to show how energized he felt. He felt more connected to the world too. That was a feeling he missed and wondered if it had anything to do with being home again. Grounding him in this reality. It felt, nice.

Sam left Dean's room first, then Castiel with Dean not far behind. They all went to the library, to where a new pile of books were set in neat stacks, with even more splayed out. Twenty books or so were opened to their first full content pages, and weighed down by mostly coffee cups and a few by various weapons pulled from around the room. The sword Dean had cut himself with held open three books by itself and he gravitated towards it to see what the books were.

“I'm gonna need more eyes on this.” Castiel waved a hand at the set up. “I was never very good with research, so of course I'm going to deffer to the experts.” He smirked and Sam was already checking out the first book that was laid out, moving slightly side to side in a rocking motion. Reading.

Castiel noticed and asked, “Sam? Are you able to read still?”

Sam lifted himself up and bobbed in the air like nodding. Copying Dean's method of communicating without having to swoop over to Castiel's left or right side, or pulse their soul light all the time. It did take some practice and energy to pulse on purpose, instead of when it's a knee jerk reaction to a feeling or thought. It was easier this way to just move up and down or rotate side to side. Sam went back to reading while Dean came closer to the next row of open books in the center of the table. Scanning over the headers of the pages for the reason why these books were spread out.

Castiel saw Dean scan several books and spark a couple of times. Taking that as confusion.

“These books are what I could find about souls and ghosts. Specifically, how to reincarnate.”

Both Sam and Dean jumped into the air at that. Worried. Excited? Their glows became erratic and wild. Castiel didn't immediately know how to interpret the moves and display. Settling on further explanation to alleviate concern if that's what that was.

“I do not want to use dark magics or anything that will lead to a fate worse then what you're experiencing.” Castiel sunk into a chair in front of his own stack of books and took a deep breath. “I want to find a way to get you back into a physical form. There might be something here to help.”

Sam went closer to Dean and just looked at each other. Trying to gauge the other's reaction was a bit harder in these more complicated conversations. Castiel let them talk as he opened up his first book to give them a bit of privacy and time.

 

'So, uh, what do you think, Sammy?'

'I don't know. I mean, the Men of Letters were pretty thorough in their collecting of knowledge... maybe they do have something that can bring us back that's not dealing with selling our souls or human sacrifices. I know neither of us wants to deal with demons again... but.'

'I'm not liking that 'but', Sam.'

'Uhh, well, it wouldn't hurt to hear from someone that used to collect souls for a living. Someone that's not a Reaper and someone we've dealt with before. Someone that owes us one.'

'Ohhh ho ho, not _Crowley,_ man.'

'Why not?'

'Cause it's Crowley!'

'Dean. He's been a crossroads demon for centuries. His mother's a powerful witch. He knows witchcraft. They probably have done something like this before! We can't just... '

'No.'

'No?!'

'No as in... ugh... not yet. Let's check out these books first, then if that doesn't work...'

'Yeah?'

'Then we'll have Cas make the call.'

'Yes!'

'However, we are not going to give them anything important! We are going to read all the fine print first. I spent time with the guy. He loves his contracts and turning phrases in legalese.'

'Yeah yeah sure. Of course. I don't like working with him anymore then you do but I think he might be our best shot. If we don't find anything here. Dean, we got this. Hell, he might bring you back just cause he was your number one fan. Bro-mates.'

'Heh, yeah, and he had a thing for you too. Addicted to your blood after the Trials. I think we changed the guy from being a huge douche-bag to a douche-snack size ziplock bag. Sorry, grossed myself out with that analogy just picturing it. Sam, I just mean, I think the King of Hell is just plain _lonely_. The demons would either kiss his ass or try to kill it. No one's really treating him like an equal. But as much as we hated him, and he hated us, we've been through these apocalypses together.'

'I can see your point, Dean. Probably why he wanted you as a partner. I just couldn't get past the smell to work with him for any longer then necessary. Glad we wont have to deal with the scent of sulfur anymore.'

'Agreed. Crowley needs us to be normal again, even if it's just for the conversation. Dealing with demons all day can't be all that fun. He said as much. Hell, he might do this for _free_.'

'I know we'd both rather do this ourselves then deal with any demons, so, research first, then, we'll have Cas make the call.'

'If he agrees to it.'

'He might.'

'I don't want to play on his heartstrings, though, Sammy. I don't want to guilt him into anything.'

'We wont be. Look around, he wants us back just as badly as we do.'

'Yeah, hey, what day is it anyway?'

'Hmm? Hard to tell. I think he was asleep for at least a full one. Woke up when he walked past my room and peeked in to check on me when I didn't hear him call out. He thought we were already up and about. Then we went and got you.'

'Oh, well, time's wasting. Let's see how many books we can get through.'

'I got this row, Dean, you get that one. Cas is already on his second book, looks like. If you get stuck on one of the foreign languages, lemme know and we can swap.'

'Deal. Dying didn't suddenly give me the ability to read, what is this? Pictionary?'

'Sanskrit.'

'Whatever. Kicking the bucket didn't give us all knowing knowledge. Just the all seeing eye of Sauron, apparently. But like, times twenty cause Mr. Bright eyes couldn't even see two hobbits on his hill.'

'It does make it very interesting, I'll give you that. It's kind of too bad we can't share this boosted vision with anyone living. I doubt a human mind can comprehend it, so I think it might be for the best.'

'Probably why the angels are so stiff. Too much going on all the time to filter out the extra crap.'

'Interesting theory. We perceive all this, but are also used to keeping distractions in the background. Turning it into white noise until we focus on it.'

'Sam, last night, I freaking swear to God, I felt the Earth move, man.'

'Huh, that's cool. Well, we better get back to reading if we want to feel the Earth under our feet for real.'

'Amen to that.'

 

Castiel made up a sandwich while the brothers hummed at each other. Not wanting to eavesdrop on their lengthy conversation, even if he couldn't tell what the hell they were saying. After awhile they settled and started reading through several books at the same time. Pulsing for his attention to turn the pages of three books so they could continue.

Hours passed with page turning and pulsing light. As the day wore on, the souls looked so defeated and sad that they hadn't found anything.

Castiel thought that a break was in order and put a bookmark on his page and dropped it heavily onto the table, getting their attention. “I need some fresh air.” He announced and stood up. Before the brothers reacted, Castiel reached out his hands and grabbed a firm hold of both souls at the same time. They startled a few seconds before settling down against his palms. He would have released them if they struggled even the slightest but both seemed fine with his handling. Cas walked up the staircase towards the outside door. Pulling them inside his hands once again, he left the bunker, locking it up even for this short break, and started to walk along a narrow foot path into the woods. Only letting them go when they were covered with the shade of the nearby trees.

The idea was, is that they'd be less against the idea of going for a walk if he was already on one in the wooded area nearby. And it worked. Castiel watched them lift up out of his hands and move ahead of him as he strolled along.

Apparently, Dean never explored this far but Sam knew exactly which dirt path to take for a more scenic route. No doubt having jogged this way before. As evident by the slightly clearer path made by his old size 12's.

Dean weaved in and out and generally enjoyed himself. Surprising a rabbit into running towards Castiel. He let it head off again while he went to seek out more wildlife. Disappearing into the shrubs. A ground squirrel came out and sniffed the air a few times before making a beeline towards Castiel and spinning around at his feet.

Castiel lowered himself to his ankles and offered up a hand, and the ground squirrel climbed right on, paws patting the fingertips a few times before grabbing on with a kind of white knuckled grip to keep from falling as Castiel was straightening up into a stand again.

He found it amusing that Dean's fear of heights was only when he was in a body, not when he had been floating 20 feet above ground amid the trees. Sam came in close and sparked at Dean teasingly while he darted off to find his own woodland creature to inhabit.

Cas stroked the fur on the little head and it seemed to calm him down. Gradually getting used to being cradled and pet in his hands. He knew that were Dean human right now, petting his head would be out of the question, but Dean had always been a tactile person. Initiating hugs or small touches here and there to ground him. Reassure the Hunter that his family was here and safe.

Cas looked up when he spotted a doe walking closer. Sucking in a breath at how beautiful it was standing there in the dappled sunlight. Dean chittered at the pause in pets but his little claws hooked into Cas's hand when he spotted the huge tawny animal come closer. When they saw the white glow in the eyes, they knew it was Sam and greeted him with a smile.

“Found the only deer in the woods?”

The doe shook her head around and stepped closer. The rounded black nose dipped in close to Dean and took a few sniffs which ruffled up his fur. Dean batted at Sam's wet nose to get it away from him and was greeted by a wide tongue sticking out at him.

Dean flinched back, expected to be licked but it darted back into the long mouth and a smile graced the doe's lips. Dean's tiny claws were out and prickling at the tips of the angel's fingers that had curled up in a bowl for the ground squirrel.

A rustle in the shrubs nearby announced the arrival of a yearling fawn coming out. Big ears swiveling at the unexpected angel and tiny ground squirrel. A soft cry escaping its mouth. Eyes going from its mother's body to the others. Foreleg pawing at the dirt nervously as it made a snuffling sound with its nose.

Sam kept his eyes away to keep himself from scaring the baby deer, and dipped his head down as invitation for it to come closer. It did on hesitant legs. All spots and knees and rotating ears. Its cute tail wagged a few times before the fawn closed the distance and snuffled in interest at Castiel's empty outstretched hand.

Dean froze. Sam, he was cool with, but this was a pure wild animal. No matter how cute and cuddly the baby deer was, it was still pretty damned _huge_ compared to him now. He would have left the body of the ground squirrel behind and escaped to the air again, but that would leave a terrified animal in Cas's hand with another one licking his other. Potentially being attacked by both if startled. So he sucked it up and stayed still while the baby tried to get milk out of Castiel's index finger.

Ok, that was pretty damned adorable.

Sam closed his eyes almost all the way to limit his glow coming out, and gently head butted the baby's side. Urging it to walk back into the woods again. Turning briefly to stomp a foreleg into the dirt to let them know he'll be back once he returns the deer to their foraging.

Castiel's peaceful smile brought Dean back to present and his breathing back under control. Taking a note from Sam, he pointed a clawed hand to the ground while patting the hand he was sitting on for attention.

Cas lowered him back down and the tiny ground squirrel ran off into the grasses. A moment later a bright soul came popping up and out with the other one coming from ahead of them on the trail. This walk helped clear their heads. They thought about the research books they were reading back home, and different ways to approach their problem. Being outside and away from all the wards gave them peace of mind to work on one thing at a time.

The souls longed to experience the physical realm again without resorting to stealing animals, but while they were in the host bodies, they were reminded of the bigger reasons _why_ they wanted to return. It wasn't just because they were souls without bodies, it was the worry that they'd forget themselves and turn into regular human souls. Mindless small clouds of energy floating around until they were taken away by Reapers.

They could feel and interact and breath again inside the animals. Finding it was a relief to not experience filter-less sight again for a few minutes. A few times it felt like trying to concentrate while every radio/TV/phone/electronic device was relentlessly turned on full blast all around them; images and signals and sound vibrations all vying for attention. Thankfully, they could sort out the minor signals to the ones within the same space as them. There was no point in knowing that that random volcano somewhere in the world went from Pyroclastic flow to a less intense lava flow. They can't pinpoint its location, or change how it's moving. Not a priority for them to listen to. This, however, this was vital. The chirp of birds, the wind playing with tree leaves. The mother deer that came back with her fawn to watch the two souls and angel from their hiding place with curiosity and a vague sense of familiarity. This is what grounded them in the world at this moment. This was important.

The walk continued on at a leisurely pace, as they made a loop around the property, eventually heading on back home with even greater determination to come back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's coming up next!


	8. Lighten Up, Darlings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is one and a half considered too many cooks in the kitchen?
> 
> Crowley comes by for a seance but finds the dead communing just fine.

 

Chapter eight:

Lighten up, Darlings

 

 

 

The three of them worked long into the night, not needing rest after the extended siesta the night before. Telling time solely by when Castiel's stomach complained. It didn't take long for Dean to cave as he watched Castiel make four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for his dinner. Eating the only foods that Dean knew for certain that Castiel liked, that didn't require cooking. He had bought the sandwich makings specifically for the angel a few months ago and kept one cupboard stocked with the various jelly's and peanut butters, keeping clear of jams because the angel found them unsettling. The Italian bread was stored in the fridge for freshness. Never knowing when Cas would bugger off for a week at a time.

Dean knew he couldn't watch his friend subside on only pb and j for his sustenance and swirled around Castiel once he opened the fridge to put the bread away. Dean led him over to the pack of eggs to cook up, which were going to go bad anyway, so there was no use complaining if they ended up on the floor. As gentle as Cas was with their souls, the angel knew next to nothing about dealing with chicken eggs. Often, cracking them over the floor while they were in transit to the pan or mixing bowls. Creating a mess of yolk and whites in his hands mixed with the bits of shells. The one time he made scrambled eggs for the brothers, they found themselves picking out hundreds of bits of shell from the whites before claiming they were stuffed so they wouldn't have to eat anymore. When Castiel had tried again to bake a cake with his infamous crunchy eggs, he had been politely banned from cooking until further notice.

Currently, Castiel tried to hide his grin as Dean went right back into training mode in his kitchen. The soul attempted to instruct Cas how to make scrambled eggs the right way. All the while, the angel munched on his sandwiches. Being a celestial the size of the Chrysler building, meant that he rarely ever got 'full'. He usually would eat just enough to sustain his vessel and no more since the brothers usually only had so much food on hand at any given day. Either forgetting they could buy more at the store then bare minimum, or it had gone bad while they were out on a long hunt. Sam's penchant for fresh foods always meant that his stuff spoiled first.

At least they didn't have to worry about the cost of frequent shopping, the Men of Letters had left them a sizable sum of cash. Being the last members of the MOL meant that it was their inheritance along with the bunker and its possessions. Dean used nearly everything within the walls along with Sam, yet, they left the garage of cars alone save for maintenance. Those things were the personal belongings of the previous MOL that were killed the last day the bunker was open, and were kept in honor of their memory. It felt wrong to use the cars and motorcycles for their gain, and besides, the Impala was always there for them. Castiel never asked to use one of the classics as a vehicle because of this. But the other things that were standard for living in a bunker was fair game. Including the sweet set up of pots and pans and equipment found in the kitchen.

Dean and Sam added a few new things to the place to update and make it livable for the Hunters. Microwave, Nice coffee maker, toaster oven. Little things that sure beat having to boil water and turn on the stove if they didn't wish to spend extra time on making breakfast.

Today, however, Cas needed to know how to cook for himself. Because if this soul thing is permanent, Dean can't cook for him anymore.

First things first, ingredients.

Dean, for as focused on cooking and cleanliness in the kitchen as he is, would mindlessly keep spoiled milk, leftovers, or greens inside the fridge rather then throw them in the trash. His internal reasoning being that he's waiting for trash day so the spoilt food doesn't stink up the place in their absence. Only, he would forget to empty the fridge every single trash day...

Reason being is that the drop off location for said trash was a good block away at the nearest farm house. They did have a furnace for trash in the basement, but it was a bitch and a half to fire it up for their one or two bags of garbage a month. Sam insisted on recycling everything he could, which further limited trash output.

In any case, the fridge was being cleaned out today. Dean didn't stop the tutorial with just scrambled eggs, but cooking up and having Cas consume half of the contents within that were reaching expiration, and the rest was finally thrown out.

Cas ate while they cooked, noting out loud what he thinks of the meals and how to improve his abilities and that had Dean glowing with pride and encouragement. Sam was spying on them with a gleam of his own at seeing them work well together.

A 'shave-and-a-haircut' knock came at the door and all three startled at the sound. Not expecting any visitors. The three went to the war room and looked up at the front door nervously. Castiel waved his hands for the brothers to hide and after getting the soul equivalent of a glare from both, they relented at the scary look Cas gave them and hid underneath the platform at the front door. Dimming their lights on instinct.

Castiel wished, not for the last time, for a peep hole as he pulled out his blade from hiding and opened the door a crack. Frowning severely at the figure standing outside.

“What do you want?” He demanded, opening the door wider to show his weapon.

“To pay my respects. I'd been hoping that someone would show up here eventually. My droogs found the impaled Impala and have been guarding it, waiting for someone to pick it up but no one has. I feared the worst.” Crowley said with a sneer but they read right through the snark, he actually was worried.

Sam had to hold his brother back when they'd heard that Baby had apparently been damaged in their absence. Sam had to keep swirling around Dean to disorient him.

 

'Be quiet! We can't be seen just yet. Let Cas handle it.'

'Bastards hurt my car!'

'I know, I'm pissed too, just. Wait. Crowley's men didn't do it. They're guarding it.'

 

Cas sheathed his blade but kept his frown in place. “You have no idea what happened?”

Crowley squinted critically at Castiel's expression, attempting to read it. “A working theory. There was a corpse against the wall with its top popped off. My suspicions are that the Winchesters were on a case and the case bit back. Disappeared without a trace. And since I didn't hear any alerts to a sold plaid soul, my guess is that the Reapers got to them first, if they aren't here. Therefore, they are now floating in the empty, and I'm out two...” Crowley paused when he noticed a flicker of light reflected off of the handrails. The grating of the stairs let out another flicker. Crowley's eyes gleamed a little and he faced the angel again. “Do tell, Cast-i-el. What tell tale heart do we have here?” Pointedly facing the floor again with a genuine smile on his lips that attempted to look snarky but failed by a mile. The top landing that Castiel stood on may be solid concrete, but the light reflections might as well be a mirror to what's underneath.

Castiel rolled his eyes and took a step back to allow the demon to enter.

Crowley walked in like he owned the place and started down the stairs to the war room below, followed by Castiel. The King of Hell peered underneath the top landing once he was in clear sight of it and folded his arms with a smirk.

“Lanterns in the dark. You Winchesters never cease to amaze.”

Both glowing souls drifted out from their hiding place but stayed out of reach of the two below.

 

'You're seeing this right, Sammy?'

'Yeah. I mean, I knew demons would look different but...'

'That is a lot of spikes.'

'It's the ram's horns that are weirding me out. How does he even hear anything with those things over his ears?'

'Got me.'

'I guess we didn't have to make the call, Dean, we got demon delivered.'

'It's not delivery, its de-inferno.'

'Oh God, that was bad.'

'Well, cat's out, might as well go say hi.'

'Dean... I'm not entirely comfortable being anywhere near that thing.'

'Hey, you wanted his help, man.'

'I know... it's just... damn that is hideous. I wasn't prepared to see demons topside. Guess we gotta get used to it.'

'Oh... huh. Looks like Crowley's got a good idea for communicating.'

'Dude, why didn't we think of that?'

 

“Is that a Mystical Talking Board? Why did...” Castiel gave Crowley a fresh frown to replace the scowl. “We already know they're present.” His hand waved up at the Winchesters who were gradually coming down from the ceiling.

“ _I_ didn't. I brought it to commune better with the other side, surrounded by the stench of Winchester feels and man pain. Better conduit for communication. But, never let it be said I cannot be... _flexible_.” Crowley teased and laid out the board, waving for the nearest soul to come on down. “So what, pray tell, have you three been up to?”

Castiel sighed and sat down in a chair at the map table as the demon circled around, waiting for the souls to come down and play. Knowing that to earn their trust, he's got to remain his suave self and not appear too eager to help. In reality, Crowley was thrilled to see that they were still around, but, couldn't exactly say as much or they'd become suspicious of his intentions. He had a role to play and it appeared that they were amenable to the idea of utilizing his assistance.

“Feathers, are you searching for something? Awful lot of books laid out over there.” He wandered into the library and grazed his fingers over the book pages. Turning a few back and forth and one soul came in close to hover at his eye level, blocking the view. He'd already seen a few key words. “Resurrection?” Crowley sneered at the floating souls. “You're kidding me right? You do know the ramifications of reanimation, correct?”

Castiel sighed audibly. “Yes.” And firmed his jaw. Dean was doing his best to appear intimidating but after days of observing, Cas could tell that his friend was nervous. No doubt seeing the King of Hell's true form. Standing and walking closer to the souls, Castiel lifted out his tattered wings to assure them that an angel has got their back. What power he has left is for their safety. Sam noticed and came down to a spot near his brother.

The demon reached forward to one of the souls and poked a finger at it. It sparked at him. Instantly knowing now that it was Dean made him grin briefly. Nothing like confirmation that they weren't trying to trick him into seeing souls where there were none. Crowley put his smirk into place again, fingers dancing over the books. Noticing a good one, and turning to a few pages that were more promising for the trio if they decided _not_ to use his help. “And how exactly were you wanting to do this?”

“... You are considering it?” Castiel sounded puzzled but hopeful. Wings fidgeting slightly. Sam noticed and slowly lit up. The meaning obscure.

Crowley shrugged at that. “It'd be too boring around here with Laurel and Hardy gone. Besides, I think I prefer to have them in my pocket rather then in their debt.”

The souls hovered a little ways away from the demon. Wary. They circled around Castiel and buzzed behind the angel's back. Discussing the matter in private.

Crowley looked non-pulsed and sauntered over to the liquor cabinet, crouching down on his heels to take a good look at the stock and pulling out something acceptable. Pouring one for himself and on consideration, pouring the angel a glass as well. No need to be rude. He swirled the amber liquid a few times and nudged the other glass closer to Castiel who huffed before sitting back down again across from the demon. Taking the glass and swallowing it in one go. It didn't do anything but annoy the demon who poured him another.

“I know you cannot easily succumb to alcohol, but that is not the point. Savor it this time, Darling.”

Castiel felt like his skin had oil on it from just being near the demon, but did as instructed and sipped at it. Finding the taste of molecules and alcohol to be less bland. Forcing himself to look past its components and paying attention to the whole. A stray thought making his lip turn upwards when he recalled that the times humans drink fine wine, they dissect the flavors into the base parts. Sussing out ingredient portions, and how well they blend together. Of course, they do not usually separate the wine's components as far down as the molecular structure of it, so Castiel had to work his way back up to enjoying the whole again. This was not wine, but likely scotch, and it had a pleasant burn when he looked for it with his vessel's tongue and throat. It wasn't bad. He took another sip.

Crowley grinned widely past his trimmed beard and gave the angel a toast that was reluctantly returned.

The souls came back over and both hovered over the table to the side.

The mystical talking board was brought over to the book table and laid out. Sam pointed at the letters to indicate the things they wanted to say. Crowley and Castiel let them take all the time they needed. Using wispy tendrils of light as appendages was very difficult on a board this small. It was like trying to command your hair to move a certain way. This was not a Studio Ghibli film.

Eventually, the souls became better adept at using the talking board. A real conversation was slowly being worked out between the demon, angel, and glowing souls.

Crowley advised them heavily against trying to regain their original bodies. The atoms and molecules were already being combined and absorbed into other things where they ended up, and every second that passes, means less and less chances of being a whole person again.

The souls seemed distressed until Crowley said there was more then one way to reattach skin to a cat and they settled into options. Crowley was already working out a plausible spell in his mind, however, it was far from perfect. Several other theories were discussed and dismissed and they were dismayed at his suggestion that they simply turn demon and inhabit a human.

“Recently expired human.” Crowley raised his hands up but no one wanted to hear any more of that suggestion. Crowley sat back again and poured himself another glass, refilling Castiel's to help calm the angel's feathers. “Fine. No demon makeovers.”

The souls calmed after that and went back to discussing options.

“We could be here all day.” Crowley drained his final glass after watching everyone get increasingly agitated. “I will look into this further on my own time. Mums the word on your current issues, I assure you. We don't want any naughty Reapers coming to your door.” He made his lips seal shut and lifted his feet to rest on a clearer spot of the book laden table. “What we should talk about currently is my fee for getting you two into dancing shoes.”

The souls sparked in annoyance before Sam settled over the 'yes' word on the board.

Both sides went back and forth in their negotiations for Crowley's assistance in getting them into the physical realm again. Nothing dire or gruesome had to be given up, but the odd and seemingly ridiculous. Crowley demanded that the brothers, on returning to humanity or whatever came closest to it, would be required to spend time at the King of Hell's side while he was inducting new recruits to impress them. The idea that the King of Hell could tame the great Winchesters was greatly desired. They agreed, but would only make five such appearances a year for ten years. Not be at his beck and call. They weren't required to do anything besides stand or sit next to him, so, it was acceptable.

Crowley also insisted that they stay out of crossroads deals, and they clarified that the people that sold their souls be informed of the eternal damnation at the end of the ten years. No vague statements or half truths. That was easily acceptable for Crowley, as he wanted to get back to being an honest businessman.

Other negotiations took place to lesser degrees, because Crowley did not want to own their souls. In the end, he admitted to himself that he liked them to stay human because when Dean was a demon, he was uncontrollable, and that was bad for his image.

Crowley downed the last of the expensive bottle and jovially thumped it onto the table. He reached for a pen inside his suit and started writing it up in full view of the three others. Sam, having gone to law school, kept Crowley from adding any addendums to it.

Crowley stated, “I usually seal deals with a kiss, but I will settle with a mark. Which do you prefer?” He smirked at the floating souls and puckered his lips.

Dean went to the bottom of the paper and started sparking like mad at it. Tiny burn marks started to form in a cluster and Sam went in to do the same once Dean was satisfied with his soul signature. Neither could get the sparks to go in just the right places, but it was good enough for the King of Hell who rolled it up and tucked it inside his coat.

“Alright. Now, since I don't own a fresh soul to charge up the deal, it will take me a bit of time to gather the required energy.” At the start of protest the demon raised his hand and said quickly, “A deal is a deal, and it will be done post haste. I will see you soon.” He then disappeared from the room.

Castiel stood staring at the spot where Crowley had been for a couple of seconds. “I hope we did the right thing.”

Both souls glowed for a few seconds in agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter this time because I didn't want to split it up.   
> Enter Crowley! I wasn't sure if I'd be able to write his character but I think it's pretty darn close to canon, right?   
> What do you think about it?


	9. Light Bulbs Going Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training starts for the souls. Using what the can to defend themselves.

Chapter Nine

Light Bulbs Going Off

 

 

 

'Bastard took his seance board with him.'

'We can figure something else out, Dean.'

'Heh, ever see that show 'Strange Things' that was on Netfilms?'

'Uhhh... maybe? Why?'

'Well, we got Christmas lights in storage right? String them up on the wall and have Cas paint letters under the bulbs! We just buzz the ones we want. It'll be so much easier then trying to point out the letters with these things we got here.'

'Cas keeps calling them tendrils. I keep hearing tentacles and it's not a pretty picture.'

'Best description I can come up with. Just stay away from anime porn.'

'In other words; your stash.'

'-and I'll stay away from your 'furry' porn. Oh man, of all the animals in the woods you could have taken over, and you picked a long legged chick.'

'Fuck you, Dean.'

'Not on your life, Sam.'

 

Castiel startled when the brothers suddenly started chasing each other around the bunker. Through walls and floors and setting off light bulbs all over the place. The glass breaking from the burst of electricity as they pass through. “Boys.” He said sternly at the fly by souls, twisting into long tornadoes of light due to the speed, but they were only there for a split second before setting off a wall clock that started to smoke.

The angel sighed and removed the clock before it caught the wall on fire. The battery melted into it's casing. The wall was unharmed and he hoped that the same could be said for the light fixtures. Putting the broken clock into a metal trashcan, he heard the effects of the soul chase elsewhere. Shaking his head, he returned to reading. Just because the Winchesters made an unbreakable deal with Crowley for the demon to bring them back in exchange for a few favors, doesn't mean that he can't find his own way to do it, nullifying their deal. He read in relative peace, as it seemed that the brothers were off in some distant part of the bunker. Remembering belatedly that they had food sitting out in the kitchen, he returned and risked using the microwave to reheat it. It came out steaming but eatable, and he finished off the other meals that they'd started. Any bacteria or salmonella that had grown in those hours the demon was there, would be incinerated by his grace. However, he still wanted to learn how to cook properly for his other human friends.

Dean meandered back into the kitchen at the sounds, and sparked a little in surprise that Cas had finished on his own. Cas hid a little smile of pride in his new success. He ate the rest of the food that was out, and washed the dishes and pans in the sink before being prompted to by Dean.

After another half hour of reading, he noticed that the souls were resting nearby on top of the books they were supposed to be scanning. Not sleeping per say, simply tuckered out from all the excitement. He debated discussing the next thing on his to-do-list with them or let them be. He knew it was probably upsetting them to know that the treasured Impala was being watched by demons so he knew what had to be done.

“Sam, Dean, I believe I should go pick up the Impala.”

The sentence got an instant reaction and they both jumped into the air. Dean flew in a bee line to the front door, swirling brighter and brighter before Sam joined him and buzzed at his brother. Then Dean bolted for the hallways that lead deeper into the bunker and it was up to Sam to urge Cas to follow. He knew where Dean was heading, but accepted the guide as they made their way to the garage. Using Sam's natural light for the hallways to save on electricity, it made Sam burn a touch brighter for being useful. Guessing correctly as Sam stuck closer to the floors to light the way.

There were rows of old cars and motorcycles and it looked like Dean was trying to figure out which one to borrow. Settling on the most modest looking one there, which was still an antique by anyone's standards. Castiel's truck was parked right next to the Impala so he had to use one of these or get a ride. The realization that they'd be trading this car for another didn't sit well with him.

“I would like my truck back as well, and since I cannot drive two vehicles at once, I propose calling up some people to help.” He said and Dean seemed to be impatient but understanding as he hovered in the air closer to him. “Who would you like me to call?”

Dean buzzed at Sam who started the process of blinking Morse code at him.

“Ah, yes, Hunters might not understand... I'm sure Jody would like to hear what happened to you both in any case.”

That made them jolt and sink a little. He figured out why. Sam went to his left side to indicate a negative answer to his desire to tell Jody of their fate. Dean seemed undecided.

“You can't keep this from her. She will want to know why you're missing. You neglected to tell her about previous life changing events and that is no way to treat a dear friend. You are not shielding her from pain, you're making it worse down the road.” He said, trying to keep it from sounding too harsh, but sometimes they needed the truth.

Both of them reluctantly went to his right side for a second before giving him space again.

Castiel nodded firmly at them and followed them back inside to get one of their spare cell phones for him to use from now on. His old one was destroyed and lost the second he hit the waters of that lake. Sam buzzed a few phones to see which ones had battery life left in them, as well as which ones were fine with being soul buzzed. They might accidentally touch the small gadgets at some point, and setting fire to Cas's pockets is just bad manners. Cas found two such resilient phones and rummaged around for their chargers. Learning from past mistakes about dead batteries from Dean's worried tirades echoing in his mind.

Phone in hand, he found Jody's number already listed, so he hit send.

A few rings later and he got the voicemail. “Oh, apologies. This is Castiel leaving a voice mail for Jody Mills. I must speak with her about an import-”

“Cas! Hey! Sorry, was in the shower. What's up?” The Sheriff's voice came through half happy to hear from him, the other half tinged with worry.

“Hello.” Castiel greeted and looked at the two hovering nearby for any idea how to start this conversation. As much as he wanted Jody to know, it wasn't appropriate to discuss over the phone. Besides being insensitive, there may be eavesdroppers. Having too many people know about Sam and Dean's current state would be very bad. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not particularly, just got done with a shift. Why, what did you need?”

“Uh.. assistance. I would rather not talk over the phone.”

Jody inhaled sharply, “Something happened.” She stated. “Tell me where to meet.”

“The bunker. I need a ride, and we'll need an additional driver, please.” Castiel said hesitantly, and Dean sparked in amusement, earning him a scowl. He rarely ever spoke with Jody, and she had an authority about her that was impressive for a human. He supposed it came with her Sheriff duties, and enhanced with her success as a Hunter.

“I'll be there as soon as I can. Claire should be home in twenty.” She stated, and the sounds coming from over the line indicated that she was already pulling things together. “What's the Def-con?”

“Pardon?”

“How bad is it?”

“At this moment, it's uhm. That is a relative term. It wouldn't hurt to have some preparations for after. But you do not need to come 'guns blazing' or anything of the sort.”

Jody gave a startled chuckle. “I can hear the finger quotes from here.” She relaxed and things weren't as frantic sounding on her end. “How are the boys? Are they well?”

Castiel looked up helplessly at them when Sam went to his right side followed by Dean. “Yes. They are fine.” He cleared his throat even if it did not need clearing. It was a useful human way of changing subjects. “We can discuss this when you arrive.”

“Ok. Let me leave a note for Alex and get my things. It is about a 6 hour drive. We'll be over ASAP.” Jody declared and the line went dead.

Castiel lowered the phone and aborted saying goodbye to an empty line. Turning to face the Winchesters, he smiled at them and they returned it with a soft glow. He was always happy to see Claire, he just hoped that she would be Ok with knowing the brother's fate.

“I will gather up the weapons we might need to defend against Reapers and demons. You two should practice your abilities of absorbing electricity from wall sockets.”

Sam sparked in interest while Dean went closer to the books. Unsure if they should spend their time reading and researching instead. They buzzed back and forth and their movements seemed to be unintentional now, or, they were conversing with each other and it simply appeared confusing to him.

 

'Come on, Dean. Crowley's on it. We can make ourselves useful learning how to control energy.'

'I just. I don't entirely trust the guy. And I don't feel comfortable zapping our house.'

'We were doing it for days now. Hell, ten minutes ago you broke three lights down the hall.'

'That was an accident.'

'If we can zap a light, we might be able to zap a bad guy.'

'Only if they're standing like, inches from an outlet.'

'That's exactly my point! Dean? We gotta figure out our limits, what we _can_ do. You should be all into this training stuff. Here, I'm gonna try to get charged from this lamp. Any advantage we can get, we should take. We might not be able to move anything physical, but we can still be useful.'

'Ugh, hate it when you make sense. And wipe that smug smile off your face.'

'How can you even tell? Dude, we don't have faces.'

'Semantics.'

'You got that word from me.'

'Semantics.'

'You're two. You know that, Dean? Acting like a child.'

'Semantics.'

'It is not! Do you even know what that word... you know what? You're not treating this as important as it is. This is serious. I feel like you're making fun of me.'

'Seman- ow _fuck_!'

 

Castiel saw a bright beam of light come from the library and he rushed in to see Sam charging up at an overhead light while Dean sputtered light for a few seconds like a wounded animal before shaking it off and disappearing around the light switch on the wall. His soul light going in and out of the wall ineffectually while Sam powered up for what Castiel guessed was round two.

A phrase came up that Dean used to say, 'learn by doing'. Which Dean was usually very good at but was currently floundering. Sam was on a mission.

Castiel didn't sense any real fight between them, or ill intentions, so he let the souls spar while he took a seat against the far wall to watch. The weapons and tools had been easy to locate in one of the many 'go bags' that the brothers had prepared and stored at the entrances. Various ones for various jobs. He had time to kill waiting for Jody.

Sam left the light fixture that was now struggling to stay lit as his soul burned very brightly. Small lightning charges arching from one part of Sam's soul to the other like a tiny thundercloud. Slowly searching the room for his brother, who was now under the table of books, trying to mind meld with the floor outlets. Dean dimmed his glow from under the table when he saw his brother's very impressive spotlight cast shadows everywhere above his hiding place.

Dean ditched the outlet in favor of a surprise attack and shot straight up through the table of books to smack right into Sam. Both of them felt the massive discharge of electricity and a small fire was lit on the books under the swirling tangle of souls.

Cas jumped to his feet and ran over, slammed the book shut to smother the flames long enough to get it into the kitchen down the hall. Thankful that it was just the one book, as they had a whole table of kindling open and ready to go up in flames.

“Sam! Dean!” he shouted over his shoulder after dousing the pages with gentle water, he saw his shadow shrink on the wall, announcing their presence nearing behind him. A few pages were beyond saving. The middles now see through. He took a breath and let it out slowly. Turning to face them with the book opened up to the blackened pages.

The souls backed up a little, buzzing rapidly at each other.

“Boys.” He said sternly and got their attention again. “Look at this.” They crept closer, timidly. Castiel grinned. “You were able to set fire to something physical.” And placed their accomplishment onto the table. The lights swirled a little slower, dumbstruck. “You both are already doing very well.” He praised and started walking out the door and paused to wait for them to follow. He led them into the gun range and walked to the center of the concrete room.

“I will bring in a few power cords and lamps and your training will commence in here. Where it is safe. I will also bring in things that I want you to burn or charge with energy. You have until Jody gets here to sustain a light bulbs glow, and set fire to something organic. I believe we still have a slab of beef in the freezer. That can simulate a Wendigo.”

The brothers were excited for the chance to prove to themselves that they were not entirely helpless in this severely reduced state. That, if nothing else, they can still hunt Wendigos without worrying about being eaten. Or the other critters that are susceptible to electric shock like Rugarus and Rawheads. They can still save lives.

Castiel found a few of the power cords in the generator room and pulled a couple lamps from the other spare rooms they rarely use. Leaving them unplugged ten feet from each other on the floor so if one blew out, it wouldn't damage the other.

Sam had to learn first how to reel in his power because it was too much for the first extention cord to handle. Frying and melting the plastic all the way to the outlet. Castiel had to reboot the electricity in the room to continue. Dean was better at manipulating how much current went through it and into himself once he saw how Sam did it the wrong way and the right way.

They turned it into a friendly competition and after four hours into the six, were making the lights blink faster than when they used their own soul light. Making Morse code easier to do. They weren't limited to how fast they could go, and the angel could decipher it nearly as fast as the speed of light. They had their first conversation in days that wasn't limited to stilted sentences.

Sam and Cas discussed AC currents versus DC currents and at first, ignored Dean's rendition of 'Thunderstruck' in Morse code with the lamps flashing brighter for the two thumps. Setting off sparks as well and getting into the music that had no sound save for the electrical hum's and pauses.

Castiel and Sam paused their conversation as they admired how into it Dean had gotten. Cas pushed the other lamp closer so Dean was able to easily reach both and had one do the 'vocals' and the other do the main guitar. Both lamps made the two heavy thumps. It would have been perfect visual representation of the song for someone that is deaf to watch Dean master the lamps and electricity. Dean may not have been a good singer when he was alive, but he damn well knew his songs inside and out.

The song ended and Dean sank below the floor in exhaustion. Sam going to check up on him and coming back up briefly to assure that his brother was fine, just chilling in the basement at the moment. Unable to sink into the bedrock due to the warding on their bunker keeping them inside.

Cas was so very proud of them. He suddenly remembered a few musical instruments Dean might like, that involved electrical fields as the main component to making sounds. He planned on finding one for his floating friend post haste. After all, how hard could it be to find a theremin?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jody!!!  
> I innitially planned this to be when they get turned back, but I couldn't just leave Baby alone out there. now they've got a friend on the way to help rescue the four wheeled member of the team!
> 
> The next chapter will have Crowley's triumphant return.


	10. Electric Light Orchestra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jody and Claire show up and Cas has to break the news.
> 
> (getting a double long chapter 'cause I made y'all wait so long! sorry!)
> 
> What a Jacob's ladder looks like - http://www.cultofweird.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/diy-jacobs-ladder.jpg

Chapter Ten:

Electric Light Orchestra

 

 

Despite its massive halls of oddities and supernatural phenomena paraphernalia, the bunker did not, in fact, have a theremin. It did, however, have something similar. Sam informed Castiel it was a Jacob's ladder. Similar to the ones in old timey horror movies whenever a mad scientist was involved, used mainly for setting the background atmosphere. Two long metal poles curved outwards at the top, forming a tall v shape. Electricity would spark from the base of it and travel to its top and arch over before dissipating into the air. The brothers _loved_ it.

Dean would charge up at the very top, just when the arch of mini-lightning would dissipate, so it wouldn't hurt too much, apparently. Castiel learned by observing that even if they could control electricity, it burnt them out if the voltage was too intense or all at once. A few times, they'd trail up the length of the electric charge until it was fully absorbed into each one. In order to do it again, they'd have to safely release the stored charge elsewhere or risk sending a real sized lightning bolt into something in the room. With Cas there, it would probably seek him out since his vessel was the perfect lightning rod. So Sam and Dean started to burn a chair bit by bit without a true flame forming into a proper fire. The wood would simply turn to charcoal in that space, and glowing ember would show for a short bit before dimming. Having doused the wood with water several times helped keep the fires down.

Castiel still sat nearby with a fire extinguisher on his lap at the ready. He enjoyed watching the brothers attempt to send little lightning strikes to each other like a game of catch between miniature gods of thunder.

A knock came from the front door above, and Castiel just barely heard it from the room they were in. His heart jumped at the sound and the brothers paused in their antics to watch him carefully. He stood and heard another series of friendly knocks.

“They're here.” He announced and set down the fire extinguisher on his way to the front door.

Dean hesitated in following until Sam nudged him forward. They let off the excess energy they had stored in themselves into a lone brick in the room, since their temporary fireman was out of the area now. Double checking everything on their way to the front door, making sure that nothing would go awry while they're out of the bunker, retrieving their car and truck. Thinking about what they'll find when they get there had both on edge so they put it out of their minds as they followed in Cas's wake.

They arrived into the library at knee height and saw Cas greet Jody and Claire inside. Keeping themselves out of direct line of sight. Dean headed for one dark lamp while Sam caught on and headed to the other. Keeping themselves from touching the bulbs but still within the light brown lamp shades. Cas was the only one that noticed them go hide, and figured that they might want to wait for him to explain things before revealing themselves fully.

He scowled for a second, letting him do all the hard work. They knew he wasn't very good with conversing with humans. Especially ones he'd only met a handful of times. Jody was pleasant company and he hated having to break the news to that friendly smile.

“Castiel!” Jody greeted him with a hug and was glad that he looked alright. She let go to study his eyes and found some trepidation there but it was gone when the angel looked to Claire next.

“Cas.” Claire said with a shy smile and went in for her own hug. It was always going to be a bit awkward between them, if only because he was wearing her late father's visage. He wished it wasn't so, but, he can't do anything about it now. “So where's Sam and Dean? Why couldn't they help you drive?”

Right to the point. Castiel frowned a little. “Let's sit down.” He motioned down to the library tables and realized that it was Claire's first time in the bunker, and even Jody had only been there once before. Both acting a little fearful of how large and intimidating the place was. It had been years for the Winchesters to make it their own, but they still kept it more or less the same. Personal touches here and there, an updated sorting system for the library that made it easier for them to do their own styles of research, as well as 'creature comforts' that Dean had put in everywhere during his 'nesting period'.

Cas took their bags and followed them down the stairs, setting them on the table closest, the one with a world map lit up from underneath and watched the teen explore around the library beyond. A small smirk at the warning sound Jody gave her adopted daughter to mind her P's and Q's. Claire rolled her eyes and came to sit at the book free table in the library, and throw her feet up on the next chair over.

Jody huffed but said nothing since Cas didn't seem to perturbed about it. She sat down next to Claire and Cas paced for a moment before sitting down as well opposite. The table hiding his bouncing knee. Folding his hands on top of the table he looked at the lamp for some way of starting this conversation. The soul inside kept itself still as possible, unnoticed by either woman.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for family.” Jody smiled warmly and reached forward to grasp Cas's hand. She let go and leaned back in her seat to peer around the place. “So where are they?”

“Uhmm. Here... Around.” Cas started and sighed. “Before I say anything else, I want you to know that they are in no pain.”

That had the reverse effect he was going for as both women sat up straighter and eyes went wide.

Cas hated how humans were still as unpredictable as ever. “They... are in a different state of being. No longer physical in the traditional sense as you would consider something physical. They are here, but, are incorporeal.”

Jody's eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

Claire could read the angels minimalistic expressions better and her breaths quickened. A delicate hand covering her mouth while the other curled into the table. “ _What_?” She whispered, voice going watery. Heart breaking.

Jody leaned forward, swallowing a few times as her eyes went a little glassy as well. Clearly trying to compartmentalize her feelings. “Explain.” She finally captured Cas's eyes in her own. Demanding he speaks quickly and succinctly.

Castiel frowned deeply. It was easy to forget that humans always would have different reactions to death then angels. To normal humans, death was more permanent. They wont see their loved ones again until they themselves died. He tore his eyes away from Jody for a second to look at the lamp again. It was turned off, but the soul inside swirled under the shade slowly sending out its light on the three seated. The other lamp just as steady as a held breath.

“It was a hunt.” He started and saw both of them shudder, tears springing to their eyes and their breaths came sharp and fast. He had to continue on, keep them from suffering the loss for too long. “I do not know what they were hunting. All I got was a cut off phone call from Dean at first. I drove as fast as I could, following the GPS tracking system Sam set up for me. When I got there...” he had to take a moment for himself now. Seeing Claire half shut down with the news, and Jody going into denial, shaking her head minutely. “One of them had already dispatched the thing that killed them. So it's dead. It can't kill anyone anymore.” Castiel knew that part was very important to the Hunters. If they were to be killed, they went down swinging. “When I showed, it was too late.” Cas forced himself to continue explaining faster now, get it out there before the emotional events rush back to mind and shut him down as well. He swallowed thickly, minds eye going to all that blood. The lifeless bodies strewn out on the ground. He clenched his eyes shut tight and asked instead, “Did Dean or Sam mention a Reaper named Billie?”

Jody looked at him blankly, shaking her head a little. Claire hid her face but stayed quiet.

“There was a Reaper that informed Sam that the next time they died, their souls would be thrown into the empty. It is neither Heaven, Hell, nor Purgatory. They were told that whichever Reaper found them would get to do it. The brothers had died numerous times, as you know, and they'd upset the natural order so much so, that they were hated among Reapers. They vowed revenge for killing Death most of all. Dean had killed the horseman over a year ago.”

Both of the women's jaws dropped. He guessed neither Sam, nor Dean mentioned that event to them in any great detail. Crap. Castiel sighed and continued, “An unrelated event to that, four months ago, Sam and Dean had been tracked down and captured by a faction of the US government, and held in a secret facility for a long while. They made a deal with Billie to help them escape. Dean knew the only way out of the cells was if they'd died and were taken to the morgue. They were brought back to life again and escaped. Once free of the facility, I finally found them again. However, I didn't know that one of the brothers would go with her willingly at midnight to uphold their end. You see, Reapers don't kill people, so they had to wait for one to die, or make a deal.”

Cas scowled at the lamp for a second. It was a _stupid_ deal. He firmed his jaw and looked up at Jody again, glancing briefly at Claire. “Billie said that it would have cosmic consequences if they broke it. I could not let either one of them die, so I stabbed the Reaper, Billie, to break it.”

Jody looked at him in confusion. “So what does that mean?”

“The consequences for a broken Reaper deal lie with me,” he stated as if to reassure them that the brothers wouldn't suffer additionally. He knew they weren't convinced, he continued on reluctantly, “however, the brothers would still be taken by whatever Reaper first showed at their death, and that soul would be sent away to the empty.” He let that sink in. Just because they dodged them once, did not mean the threat was gone. “When I arrived at the building they'd perished in, the Reapers had not yet shown. There were sigils in many surfaces inside the building and it kept the events within hidden just enough to confuse the Reapers for a short time. In my grief, I knelt by their bodies and felt their souls still within.” He grinned slightly. Hoping that they'd see the silver lining in this story.

Castiel laid his hands out on the table the same way he'd had on their bodies. “I had a hand on each one, and felt their souls come to me. I pulled them out and they clung to my hands. I could feel Reapers coming in fast and knew we ran out of time.” Castiel continued on, retelling the events from his side and would help each brother tell it from theirs. As he spoke, Jody would ask a question or two for clarifications sake, and Claire slowly stopped silently crying. Eyes wide with hope, replacing horror. Tear tracks still stained her cheeks but were drying as he spoke. Describing the pranks in detail to help alleviate the pain of loss. Emphasizing that they are capable and willing to have fun, even now.

When he got to the part where they are able to manipulate energy and what they were doing downstairs in the shooting range, the lamp light swirled a bit more and both of the ladies attention went straight to it.

Cas paused and watched as the soul peeked out from the lampshade and hover upwards cautiously. As if testing the waters. The souls had been in near constant motion in this new existence, so for them to have this level of patience through their own story was admirable.

Jody leaned back in her chair so quickly that she nearly lost her balance. The chair going up on its back legs and the soul went forward as if to try and catch her, which sent her reeling back all the way. Falling onto the floor and scrabbling to get upright again Jody yelped, panicking. Claire shot her chair back with the backs of her knees and stood up with slightly more composure, but still backed up as the soul approached.

The other soul came over, buzzing sharply at his brother, and whoever it was retreated from the two humans back to center of the table. Staying still long enough for Jody to get to her feet and grab hold of Claire's hand. Clutching at it tightly. Fight or flight warring in her posture.

“There is no reason to be scared.” Castiel lifted his hands in a calming gesture. “The Winchesters retain their intelligence. Unlike most souls without bodies, they are still aware of their surroundings and under their own willpower. They wont hurt you. They're still themselves.”

Jody nodded a bunch of times. Claire was frozen still.

Claire spoke up, “This is really Sam and Dean?”

“Yes. Dean?” He held his hand out palm up and the soul that had been at their table went towards it to indicate who was who. “And that is Sam.” Castiel gestured with his other hand. Sam blinked politely. “Even I have trouble distinguishing them sometimes, unless they are making physical contact with me. It's getting easier and easier to tell them apart. Their personalities shining through, if you pardon the pun.”

Claire stepped forward, reaching out her own hand towards Sam. “Can I touch them?”

Cas frowned a little, head cocking to the side as Sam backed up a foot. “I don't think that would be wise. I am able to touch them because of my grace. I don't know what a soul touching a living person would do. It might stop your heart from the sudden electrical impulse.”

Claire recoiled her hand instantly towards her chest and kept it there with her other.

“I don't know.” Castiel admitted, glancing from one soul to another. “Better not risk it if we don't have to.”

“So all souls look like that?”

“Yes, more or less.” Castiel said. “Even they change their appearance.” As he said this, Sam started to pulse light at them more drastically as an example, and Dean sent a few sparks out. Swirling and turning in the air to show off their range. “Also depending on their mood and level of borrowed energy of course. Either electrical or natural. Just an hour ago, they were sending lightning bolts to each other with the borrowed energy of a Jacob's ladder. They can possess animals and likely people too. Similar to ghost possession. It is not pleasant, but does no lasting harm once they leave the living being.” Castiel debated if he should reiterate the no touching policy but it looked as though neither human wanted a Winchester taking over their body anytime soon. The brothers likewise refused to get too close as if reading the angel's mind.

Castiel started to explain other aspects of their existence as Jody finally got over her shock and swell of emotions to come forward too. It was becoming clear that even though they were reduced to souls, what Castiel had said first was true, they weren't in any pain. Of course, it was hard to tell from this end what they would be experiencing on that. She found herself saying as much.

Sam went to the lamp and made it flicker out a message in Morse code too fast for Jody to keep up, even though she knew it. It was just a strobe light to Claire's eyes. Not yet an expert on the nonverbal and unwritten forms of communication.

Castiel translated for Sam. “He says that they know you traveled a long way today, and we have many more hours of travel to go, so you should rest up before we get going.”

To that, Dean appeared a little miffed but understanding in the way he moved around before settling somewhat on the surface of the table. Having to wait tended to make Dean moody.

Claire looked like she really _really_ wanted to see what the souls felt like. Despite the warnings, her fingers twitched on the tabletop. Dean too seemed curious but a sharp spark and buzz from Sam kept his brother in check as he had Cas translate their side of the story now that Cas got the events basics down.

Jody had even more questions about what they're experiencing and before anyone knew it, it had been several hours since their arrival. Plenty rested, Dean shoved Sam aside from the lamp to send Cas his own message via Morse code. This time it was slow enough for Jody to decipher on her own.

She chuckled and agreed. “Yeah, Dean. Food does sound good and we should hit the road.”

Dean sparked in pleased surprise and had a bounce in his step as he circled around the two of them in happiness. Sam was also pleased and the mood lightened considerably now that everyone was on the same page, and had the same goal in mind.

Castiel led the humans into the kitchen followed by Sam and Dean a decent space behind them to keep from accidentally touching.

Thankfully, there was enough food left for a decent dinner and as the ones that still had stomachs ate up. Dean entertained them with his flickering lamp light rendition of 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' with Sam soon doing backup on the other lamp. The song slipped into 'Mr. Blue Sky.' which made Jody spit food out while laughing so hard, when she figured out why Dean picked it.

“ _Electric Light Orchestra_!” She snickered and covered her mouth to keep the others from seeing chewed food.

Claire laughed at Jody laughing, and the souls could barely keep up the song's tempo at the mirth filling the room. Human souls that still lived inside their bodies were always much brighter and the auras surrounding them gave them a colorful hue that changed beautifully. Able to tell their feelings just by watching the colors of their aura if nothing else.

Sometimes though, they'd catch Jody or Claire looking at them with a sadness in those eyes and knew that it couldn't be helped. They had died. They _died_. _Horribly_. Nothing can change that.

Even if they became corporeal again, they'd still be dead, just able to move things. It _was_ sad, and trying to tell Jody or Claire or anyone else what to feel about that was wrong. They were entitled to their own feelings. Sam and Dean just wanted them to know that they don't necessarily want to be dead, but there's worse fates then this if they had to be dead.

Hell for one. Purgatory a distant second. Or third if your counting hundreds of years in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael. Point is, there were less desirable places to be then on Earth as a free floating soul. Even the empty didn't sound so bad on paper, but, from what Cas implied, is that it was far from pleasant. If their time in solitary custody taught them anything, is that pure nothingness, was worst of all.

The meal finished, leftovers scraped into the trash that was finally removed from the building, the humans, angel, and souls were ready to go. Cas did one final sweep of the bunker, making sure the training grounds weren't at risk of catching fire, and that everything was turned off and safely cleared away. Finding that Jody and Claire were in the kitchen doing the dishes and being directed by Dean the proper place for everything. Sam busied himself with finishing up the pages of a book he'd seen open on the other table. It was on a page he didn't have Cas turn to earlier. Sam wondered if there was a reason the King of Hell flipped it there. If it was on purpose or idly turning pages. It looked promising but his attention was torn away when Dean gave him a friendly shock.

 

'Come on, Sammy! Time to get my baby back baby back baby back.'

'Heh, you want your baby back? Baby back? Baby back?'

'You know it. Too bad we gotta go ride coach instead of first class in Jody's jeep.'

'Yeah, can't let anyone see us, and besides, it's not safe for the driver to have a very bright light on in the car while driving at night. The reflections on the windows are distracting.'

'Pretty sure Cas is gonna insist we ride with him.'

'With him? You mean inside?'

'When you say it like that it sounds creepy.'

'I dunno, wont be too bad. He's an angel, it's not like we're possessing him. Not like the animals.'

'Why can't we just do that? Like, I grab something, you grab something, then we don't have to worry about this little light of mine, letting it shine.'

'Huh. Maybe. It's a long trip though.'

'We'll let the critters go when we get to a hotel for the night and grab something new afterwards.'

'And abandon some poor bird or squirrel several states away from its home?'

'And now I sound like a dick.'

'No, it was a good idea, we just... I guess we should just stick with Cas or in the trunk or something.'

'I'd rather be in Cas.'

'Heh, I know you would.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing! Nothing!'

'Shut up, Sam.'

'Oh hey, our ride is here.'

 

Castiel came back into the map area and saw the souls perk up at his arrival. He lifted up the weapons bags to his shoulders and Jody dropped off the damp dish towel on the map table on her way over. She hefted her's and Claire's bags and gave a shrill whistle for the absent teen to get a move on. She came back from a nearby restroom, blushing, and made for the stairs after them. At the top of the landing, Cas lifted up his hands as the brothers came closer.

Jody quirked an eyebrow at the hand gesture he was making then gasped as the brothers were snatched from the air with both hands and their beings were just sucked right into his half curled fists.

“What the hell are you..? What did you do?!” She shouted and stomped up the last few steps to grab his shoulder.

Cas startled at the sudden outrage. “The – the warding on the bunker keeps them inside the walls unless they are inside a vessel. They can't pass unassisted.” He explained and lifted up his right hand, flattened it, and let go of Sam's soul.

The soul lifted up and out, looking around quizzically and backing up a few inches once he saw how close Jody was to him.

Castiel peered back at Jody over the light of the soul. “See? They are unharmed. This is the only safe way to get them in and out.” He cupped his hand gently and lifted it slower this time, and Sam willingly went back inside. Proving the angel's point.

This mollified the sheriff who backed up and down a step. Giving him a hard look anyway. “You could have asked them first before vacuuming them in.”

Cas bowed his head in shame. “Yes. I understand. I will.” He then lifted up his hands even though he felt the souls inside his chest now. It would be another conversation and a half to explain the metaphysics of grace and soul interaction inside an angel's personal vessel without a host soul inside it anymore. Jimmy was long gone, and so this body was all Cas's and currently, a veritable playground for the Winchesters who apparently enjoyed checking it out. It made him have several conflicting emotions about that but he schooled his facial features and tone into something acceptable in responding to Jody. But really, souls kinda _tickled_.

With his hands still up, he addressed them, “I apologize for snatching you from the air, I will endeavor to do better.” And nodded once firmly before lowering his hands again. Grinning at Jody who seemed satisfied enough to let it be. Castiel now understood what the brothers had talked about with her. She had a 'Mom' voice that could command anyone. Even Claire was silent and attentive during the berating.

Castiel let them outside, locking up behind them. Jody took the lead from there towards her jeep. It was parked a bit further down, out of sight of the bunker's entrance. Claire picked up the pace to walk beside Castiel and peered at him a few times. He finally noticed and grinned.

“Is there something you wish to say?” He asked kindly. Practically seeing the awe surrounding her.

“So, uh, what's that feel like?”

“Pardon?”

“Having the souls or whatever in there.”

“I imagine it is different for me then it would be for you.” Castiel said and admitted quietly, “Dean is settled next to my heart, I think he likes the steady beat. Sam is still exploring. He is currently in my right foot.”

That got a chuckle out of the teen as she looked down at the foot in question and tried to picture a 6 foot 4 inch tall Hunter chilling out inside the black dress shoes. Laughing harder at the thought that he would be dizzy as hell as they continued their brisk walk.

Cas kept his voice down, “Inside, it uh, I believe they don't really sense time and space. I might as well be sitting reading, or doing jumping jacks. As you know, I am a huge multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. Roughly the size of your Chrysler building. This vessel is simply a means to interact with earthly beings.”

“Showoff.” she snickered again and bumped into his side.

They got into the jeep and Castiel called Dean to come out. The soul lifted from his hand but stayed close since the angel was now in the front seat of the jeep and it was pulling out onto the main roads. “Did you wish to reside somewhere else?”

Dean's soul shook side to side as a 'no' and then put himself right back into Castiel's cupped hand.

“Very well.” and gingerly pulled him back inside the rest of the way.

“Got him in the palm of your hand.” Jody commented wryly and Castiel's eyes crinkled.

“Feeling's mutual.” He admitted with a soft grin, and folded his hands. Cas felt Dean settle right down next to his heart again. “It's what you do for family.” He added a few minutes later when they were on the main highway. With his left elbow, the angel bumped lightly into Jody's forearm in a similar way Claire did to him. Turning his head slightly to the back seat to include the teenager in the sentiment, because of course, they were all family here.

Claire put in headphones and muttered an affectionate, “Dork.” Before closing her eyes and sinking into the music as much as the seat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorrryyy!  
> Let me just say that there had been *tons* of things happening in real life that delayed this chapter.  
> number 1) I was in writer block hell.  
> 2) little sister had moved houses and I helped  
> 3) older sister had to go to the hospital and will be staying there till my niece is born.  
> 4) my older brother's son got married and I filmed it.  
> 5) quit my old job and my boss still hadn't paid me for the last months worth of work  
> 6) dealing with my old boss and his threats to me.  
> 7) interviewed for new job, hired, and am now anxiously awaiting my first day there!  
> 8) cleaning *every* single room,closet,cupboard in my entire house for a garage sale that we still aren't ready for cause i got a couple cupboards and spaces left to clean to within an inch of it's life.  
> 9) dealing with my oldest cat's diabetes and vet visits  
> 10) dealing with the stress of all of the above, with a lack of money... =depression
> 
> so yeah, a lot has happened. (even more then what's written) and my new job is going to be very labor intensive so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update. If I'll just be too tired to do anything.  
> just know that I am not abandoning this!  
> I am sorry Crowley isn't in this chapter as promised, it started to run long and I didn't want to belittle Jody and Claire's reaction to what happened. I could have really drawn it out, but, I think this is good, yeah?  
> So anyway, thanks for sticking with it! Kudos and comments give me strength!


	11. Streetlights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip!

Chapter Eleven:

Streetlights

 

 

The drive was pleasant and quiet. Castiel leaned against his door and dozed off, tracing the souls paths within his vessel. Dean was practically sleeping, draped over his heart. A stray memory of Dean extolling the virtues of 'magic fingers' beds in hotel rooms made him quirk a smile. Next best thing for a disembodied spirit. Sam was venturing closer to his head, tentatively and shy. Castiel guessed why and whispered internally that it was fine with him if Sam wanted to see out of his eyes again.

Sam took a few moments to insist he was fine if Cas didn't want him to, which made Cas snicker. He whispered that he wasn't planning on doing anything that would be impeded by having a soul take over his eyes. They were just sitting in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the passing cars and stars above.

Sam took that as invitation and drifted upwards. Being inside Castiel's vessel wasn't nearly as cramped as one would think. Space wasn't compressed or stretched, it was simply larger due to Castiel's true form. The angel existed in more then one plane of reality, and the souls were inhabiting a kind of midway space between skyscraper size celestial, and human anatomy. His heart for example wasn't a physical thing per-say, it was the impression of a heart that pulsed shock waves throughout the body. Currents of blood with their own starts and stops like a river funneled through a network of branching tubes. Lungs swayed in and out that collided with the percussion-like impulses from the blood pumping though the veins, and to the souls, that was still a completely inadequate metaphor.

A myriad of sensations and impressions more then tangible evidence. Perhaps that was just a souls view of a vessel and not how it actually is. Sam had a field day trying to figure it out.

Best he could come up with, was if a painter was high and blindfolded and told to paint a human form using nothing but his emotions to guide his paintbrush.

Sam knew logically that Cas's head was roughly 'up' so he went up. It was a matter of deduction more then a sense of up and down, since he had no inner ear fluid to tell his body which way he was facing or even angled. Not having a body, and being able to see *everything* in every direction, really impeded them in figuring such simple things out.

Sam was glad that they were able to control their movements and that it was based on willpower more then muscle. They want to go 'there' and so they go _there_. They want to move in a circle and so they do. There was no need for any kind of propulsion involved. No legs or arms to get them going.

Seeing as how his trip to Cas's feet and the tiny muscles flexing in the toes that kept him balanced told him that direction was 'down', he directed his attention 'up'. Years of studying human biology helped a little, but dealing with angel vessels never really came up in this context. When he was alive, he was more worried about becoming an angel's vessel, not once considering riding around in someone else's.

Sam finally reached the twin windows to the outside world and saw that they might as well have been actual windows. There was nothing in the way of the view and he saw the rest of Cas's body stretch out in the seat, reclining sideways against the door. Streetlights illuminated the inside of the car in regular intervals, showing off what it normally looked like to a human. No, radio waves, magnetic fields, infrared glare, just, the normal inside of a jeep view. It was nice. Uncluttered.

Cas turned his head to face Jody who was slouching in her seat but attentive as ever at the wheel. She glanced over when she felt eyes on her and smiled warmly at Cas. Cas returned it and Sam felt the warmth cascade around him. Coming from not only Jody but from Cas. Sam mentioned his observations and felt Cas's voice rumble around him as the angel spoke aloud.

“Sam says hi.”

Jody startled a little before looking back at the road to make sure she hadn't swerved at all. She looked back at Cas with slightly wider eyes and one side of her mouth quirked up. “He can hear me?”

“If you want...” Cas said aloud and internally asked if Sam wanted to talk.

Sam sputtered and backed off away from the twin windows. Cas felt a wave of feelings come over him and his head hurt a bit from the sudden intensity of it. Sam was feeling shock, guilt, and curiosity. Abruptly declining the offer and backing down into the vague area of Cas's neck.

“Sam.” Cas sighed and closed his eyes to help the nervous soul focus on his words. Instead of asking internally, he said aloud for the human's sake, “Sam, it is alright if you want to speak to Jody. I'll be fine. You're not going to hurt me at all or be 'taking over'. I'm allowing it if you wish.”

Jody kept looking at the angel with wide brown eyes. Disbelief clear as day. Claire and Dean were asleep in their respective places, and didn't notice a thing.

“Just because you are inside my vessel, does not make this possession.” Cas amended the statement at the clear thought coming from Sam that he just lied. “Ok, _technically_ it is possession but you're not intending harm, or anything bad, correct? And it is a fact you cannot physically take control over my vessel, even if you wanted to, even if I were unconscious.”

Sam agreed wholeheartedly, and Cas nodded.

“So come back up and say whatever you want.” Cas opened his eyes again and instead of making Jody feel uncomfortable, he unfocused his gaze at the complicated CB radio display.

Sam crept forward and up and looked out again. He knew he still didn't have a normal voice, so he willed himself to speak in the same way he speaks with his brother, and was surprised that Cas's voice effortlessly sounded out his words. Far less gravely and closer to how Jimmy had talked.

“He- hello?”

Jody nearly drove off the road before gripping the wheel and righting the car again. Finding a good place to pull over, she did so as quickly but carefully as possible. Claire had the ability to sleep through five different alarm clocks. This was nothing.

Once they were parked far enough from the quiet highway, Jody sat back against her door. Hands fidgeting on the seat belt strap. Unsure what to do with them in light of the new situation.

“ _Sam_?” She asked quietly with no small amount of awe.

“Yeah... it's uh, it's me. Wow this sounds weird.” He chuckled and squinted hard at the sheriff even if Cas's eyes did nothing of the sort. “I can't move anything... I keep expecting to move my arms but. Yeah. Wow. This is just... wow. It's like I'm tied down speaking though a microphone.”

Castiel then said aloud in his usual rough voice, “Did you wish to have control of my arms, Sam?” Letting go of his control to allow Sam to use the mouth again.

“I-I- I don't know? No. That's crossing a line. It's... yeah. I'm not trying to.. no. I'm good. I'm not comfortable going that far.”

Cas figured Sam would want him to, so he looked at Jody again who was at a loss for words, then turned his head to peer back at Claire.

“I nearly forgot what it was like to look out of two eyes.” Sam said. “I feel like I should be saying something profound or like, inspirational. But I didn't really prepare a speech. This is just... I don't know. Like, random?”

Jody smiled at the apt description. “Yeah. I feel ya kid.”

Cas aimed his head back at Jody and reached a hand forward anyway, knowing that Sam would have wanted to. Even if Sam felt it was crossing a line if he did it, Jody had no reservations and held onto the proffered hand. A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Jody,” Sam started. “Thanks so much. For everything. If I never get the chance to say it again, I just want you to know that we honestly appreciated everything you did. Are doing. For who you are.”

“Damn, Sam. You really know how to make a girl cry you know that?” She sniffled and wiped her face off. “How are _you_ doing though? You're the one that's a bit uh, under the weather.”

“You can say 'dead'. It's not a tender topic. I'm fine. It's not the first time we'd died. And I'm glad it's not like the last time we were deceased. I prefer this over the Cage, over Hell, over Purgatory, any day. I know Dean feels the same. He'd say as much if he wasn't passed out on Cas's heart down there.”

Jody raised an eyebrow. “His heart?”

“Yeah. I can't really describe it... sorry. Imagine you got really high and then got into a sensory deprivation tank. Kinda like that.”

Jody nodded and said, “I'll have to try that.”

Sam chuckled out loud and it still sounded so odd to hear a different voice then his own come out. “I'm sure Dean would be right there with you if he could.”

“We'll get you boys back, Sam. Don't worry about that. You're the freakin' Winchesters! There's nothing you can't do.”

“Just got to find a way.” Sam agreed and felt bolstered by the kind encouragement. Cas gripped Jody's hand a bit tighter, helping with the sentiment.

Sam said after a moment, “Crowley is working on it. We made a deal. I know you've had a bad experience with him before, and I'm not gonna excuse that at all. I'm not. But he is a man of his word, so long as that word is written down in contract form.” Sam added. “As bad as he is, Dean and I could tell that he wanted to help, and if we want to get our bodies back, we figured, might as well let him do it. He's the strongest of all of us right now.”

Cas spoke up, the voice pitching low and gravely, “The demon will not betray the deal.”

Jody blinked at the change. Getting audio whiplash when Sam spoke up right after.

“Crowley is all about keeping the deals he makes. We went over the contract several times. It's kosher.”

Sam felt that taking much longer was going to make it awkward so he decided to let Cas have his voice back. “I'm going to see how Dean's doing. He'll probably bitch me out for keeping us on the side of the road for so long.” Sam chuckled and then said carefully, “Thanks again. Any time you want off this crazy train, we understand and wont hold it against you. I know you got kids to take care of and neither of us wants to get in the way of that.”

“You think I'm cutting out now you're out of your damned mind, Sam.” Jody admonished, “I can't quit my day job, but I can do this and be there for you. Get you back on your feet.” and started to pull out into traffic again. What little of it there was on the road at this time of night. She got back up to speed and glanced over again. “We'll get your car and bring you back home. Then we'll figure this out together. I have a few more sick days I can use.”

Sam grinned at her and felt Cas nod for him. Grateful the angel knew what he wanted. “See ya later, Jody.”

“Night, Sam.” She smiled back and pat Cas's leg. “Keep Dean out of trouble.”

“Ugh, making me _work_.” Sam laughed out loud and left.

Sam felt Cas's voice come back like a rolling wave crashing on a rocky shore and left them to it. Drifting back down after thanking Cas for the opportunity. He got an invite to do it again whenever he or Dean wants. Sam thanked him again and settled down inside the chest area close to Dean. Checking up on his brother who was so relaxed he barely noticed Sam's presence at all.

After five hours of straight driving and pee breaks, they pulled over for breakfast at a cute diner and station just outside of some no name town. Cas released Sam and Dean into the nearby woods to stretch and the souls darted off into the brush to avoid human eyes. Dean wasted no time at all in finding and taking over a rabbit and coming back to the jeep, waiting underneath the warm vehicle while Sam came back within a rather large hawk. Just to spook Dean a little he swooped around and around. Dean abandoned the rabbit who took one look at the hawk that landed on the ground and made a mad dash back into the woods.

Sam chastised Dean with a few ear splitting screeches as he flew up to the top of the jeep to watch and wait for Dean to come up with something better.

Sam waited and waited. Turning around to watch the few other customers go into the store and sit down at the large wrap around windows for the diner part of the store. He ducked down when different people left with take out bags, but was noticed anyway. The couple approached him with awe and pulled out cell phones. Setting their bag of food on the ground to free up their hands.

“Honey, look! It's so calm.” The woman said and the flash on her camera nearly blinded Sam who shook his head a bit. She approached while he was blinded and Sam shrieked at her sudden proximity.

A black and gray stripped cat darted out from behind the dumpsters, hissing and spitting as it closed the distance. Sam would have laughed at the image of a scraggly looking stray cat defending a bird nearly twice its size, if the couple hadn't started shouting, flailing, and cursing. The husband threw his phone at the wild cat who dodged it and kept on hissing with all its fur on end. The man finally got the hint and backed away with his wife. Grumbling and bitching about the cat taking his phone, even if he's the one that threw it.

Sam glided down to the ground a few paces away from the cat. The familiar white glow in the eyes told him that Dean enjoyed that a bit too much. Both their attentions were drawn to Castiel who saw what happened and was coming to the rescue.

Sam ruffled his wings at the tall angel and Dean smugly started to groom his fore paw as if nothing happened.

“Are you two alright?” Cas asked and knelt down. Claire and Jody were now at the door and looked worried. Cas had just up and left in a hurry from their booth.

Dean nodded and shrugged. Pawing at the cell phone to make it face upright and show off the slightly cracked screen. Sam had an idea and hopped on over pecking at the power button and Dean caught onto his intentions.

Claire came over and was hovering nearby, clutching her silver knife in one hand, ready for a fight, but these animals were too tame. She watched the strange white eyed animals actually go through the contact list and hit the call button. The bird trilled and danced side to side while the cats tail flicked about in amusement. The second the woman answered, the cat and hawk both started screeching bloody murder into the speakers until she hung up with a curse.

Cas cuffed the back of the cat's head and bopped Sam's beak just as harsh. Mindful of the host bodies, of course. He dialed back and wasn't surprised there was no answer. He frowned at the brothers who feigned innocence as he stood up to his full height and left them there to give the phone to the cashier. While inside, he had their meals boxed up since it appeared that breakfast was over and done with now.

Claire couldn't keep in her laugh as she held her hand down to them for a high five. Sam brushed his wing feathers along her fingers before he hopped up her outstretched arm and perched on her shoulder. Dean rubbed against her leg looking up and meowing loudly.

Jody was standing nearby, crossing her arms. “We are not keeping those wild animals.”

“Come on, Jody! They're cute!”

“They probably have lice.” Jody did a full body shiver of disgust.

Claire bounced her shoulder up making Sam flap his wings to stay balanced. “You don't have lice do you?”

Sam shrugged and was now thinking that that was a high probability, so he took off from her shoulder and back into the woods before letting the bird go on its way. Claire pet Dean's striped head a few times before he too left to return the cat to the stack of tires he found it sleeping in. Both glowing souls returning to the jeep to hide inside the cab, away from any other humans gaze.

“That was great.” Claire folded her arms on the window sill. The souls flickered a little and toyed with the radio. Jody brushed off Claire's jacket as if that would get rid of any unwanted bugs and told her to go check herself out in the woman's bathroom for ticks and to wash her hands. Claire sighed dramatically but did as told and Jody leaned into the jeep's window next to see the souls attempt to work the radio. Getting barely more then static. She sighed at them but let it be. It was kinda funny.

Cas returned with the take out and another bag of snacks, putting them into the backseat. “I can drive for awhile. You need rest.” He said and Jody agreed. Having driven nearly twelve hours in the last 15. She settled into the passenger side and watched Cas raise his hands to the radio at the brothers like he was going to play patty-cake with it. “You want to return?”

Dean went right on in while Sam debated. He made the clock light flicker out his Morse code message and Cas repeated it for Jody's sake. “He wants to watch how the jeep works while it's moving.”

“Ok, so long as he doesn't short out the battery.”

The soul brightened and flickered a little before disappearing into the dashboard.

“He's alright in there, right?”

“He'll be fine. Dean might join him in a bit. They know their limits and how to interact with all manner of electrical currents. Even if he shorts out the battery, he can always uh, jump start it again.” Cas pulled onto the road and they continued on. “I'm confident in his abilities.”

“And Dean?”

“Dean will likely succeed in making the jeep more efficient so long as he's manipulating the electrical currents and output. His knowledge of vehicles is astounding.”

Dean must have heard him because he went towards Cas's hand and the angel let him out again. Holding it palm up. Dean blinked a few times before disappearing into the dash next and the car leaped forward suddenly.

Jody balked at it and shouted at the vents, “Don't screw up my car, Winchester!”

The clock started blinking 12:00am at them and Jody scowled at that because it meant that they _did_ short out the battery, but fixed it a second later. Probably hoping she wouldn't notice anything.

“Winchesters.” She muttered with a exasperated fondness and settled into her seat once the jeep went back to normal functions and speed.

Claire was in the backseat sprawled out and munching on a candy bar and thinking that this was the best family road trip she's been on in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cause I didn't feel like cleaning my house just yet.... have a chapter!   
> Crowley's coming! I swear! soon as I figure out how to get him there.


	12. Light as a Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley comes through.
> 
> THE SECOND HALF OF THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN A BIT  
> only because I didn't like how the first one was worded. It's better now then before and perhaps worth another read through?

Chapter Twelve:

Light as a Feather

 

 

 

The noonday sun peeked overhead past tall thunderclouds that promised rain before the nights over. The small family didn't care much about the weather, more the fact that they'd _finally_ arrived. The destination isn't one that was celebrated, though, as it is near where the brothers met their final end.

Castiel pulled Jody's work jeep up next to his old truck. The Impala was parked on the other side, too close to the treeline to be seen past his truck which helped it hide from normal travelers. A perfect classic car like her would have been carjacked long before their arrival if it wasn't for Cas's accidentally strategic parking.

Claire and Jody were about to emerge from the jeep but Castiel held out his hand for them to wait. Pressing a finger to his lips as his eyes roamed around the scene.

Jody had forgotten all about the low ranking demons that Crowley said were keeping an eye on the vehicles. Claire double checked her anti possession necklace to make sure it was still in place and Jody did the same. Castiel frowned at the radio and snapped his fingers. One soul came forward and did a slow blink at him and he made his fingers do the 'come here' move. The soul backed up for a second before emerging again, followed quickly by his brother. Entering Cas's hand as the fingers splayed out casually on the radio display. It was safer inside the vessel then it was out with demons around.

Jody had already warded all of her vehicles years ago against demons so they were safe so long as they stayed inside the jeep. They did not want the demons to know that Sam and Dean were present however, and their natural glow might make its way out of the jeep somewhere.

Castiel opened up the drivers side door and got out, brandishing his angel blade. The building the Winchesters had perished in was down the way, out of view of them at the moment. He cleared his throat and announced to the seemingly peaceful street. “Crowley made a deal with us. Anyone that tries to stop us will have to face not only my wrath but his.”

A middle aged woman wearing business attire that conflicted with the surroundings sauntered out of the treeline. She dragged a finger along the Impala as she came closer. “Been waiting for you to show up.”

Cas was on guard and surreptitiously scanning his surroundings for the other demon. “Well, we're here now, you can go.”

“What if I don't want to?” She said and came closer. “Where are your friends?”

Castiel firmed his jaw, gritting out, “Leave. Now.” He slowly waved his blade in front of himself. He could dispatch one demon easily but not knowing just how many could be out there stilled his hand for the moment. His powers were not infinite.

Another deep accented voice cut in just behind Castiel. “That's good advice, you should take it.”

Cas whirled around and lowered his blade once he realized who it was. The female demon bowed her head immediately and backed up a few paces out of sudden respect.

Crowley squinted hard at her. “I'll deal with you later.” He warned and she vanished back into the treeline. The King of Hell turned to the angel. “So hard finding help these days.” He smirked and turned to the jeep. Twiddling his fingers hello at Jody inside. “Ms. Mills.” He made a quick kissy face at the snarling sheriff, and then angled his head to view into the backseat. “And who is the spunky teenager with the pig sticker?”

“No concern of yours.” Castiel said and sheathed his blade again. “Do you come with results?”

“Right to the point.” Crowley grinned and bumped into Cas's side. “Of course, Darling.”

Cas felt the souls within just behind his eyes, watching everything that is happening. They must have flared up because Crowley looked harder at Castiel's face and hid his grin behind a smirk.

“It's alright, they can come out to play. However, I would prefer to do this out of view of prying eyes. Shall we?” He gestured in the same direction as the dilapidated building that the Winchesters had perished in.

Castiel felt uneasy. “Does it have to be there?”

Crowley glanced back and forth and finally got it. “No. They're no longer inside I'm afraid. Not even a police report of their presence. Only the smear left behind from that nasty little bugger that was missing it's melon. My guess is that the reapers blew the Winchester bodies to smithereens.”

“That was my guess as well.” Castiel sighed. There were more promising possibilities if they had solid bodies they could work with. He was not familiar with the area beyond parking the truck and flying off from the building directly, so Castiel did not know if there was a better place nearby to do whatever it is that Crowley needed to do.

Crowley guessed what Cas was thinking and walked over towards the jeep. Getting a warning glare from the angel, but his worry was unfounded in the demon's eyes. He had no beef with Jody or the teenager. “Is she even old enough to drive?” He paused and rested his folded arms on the outer edge of the driver's side window. Glancing at the devils traps that were painted subtly all over the jeep's interiors. The whole vehicle exuding an air of, 'get the fuck out', to any demon with half a brain.

“She's fine. We got it.” Jody ground out.

Crowley nodded and faced Castiel again. “We need somewhere with a roof and four walls. This isn't going to be public friendly I'm afraid.”

Cas angled himself to block the demon's view of Claire at least. Paternal instincts flaring. “Where.”

“There is no shortage of abandon buildings in this fair town. Dwindling population due to lack of Starbucks.” he shrugged. “Here is where I'll be.” Crowley pulled out a business card and puckered his lips before he puffed a bit of air at it. Words formed in slightly charred font on the thick paper. “I'm not a sitter so the kid will have to stay out.”

“I can take care of myself.” Claire spat out and shivered at the renewed look of interest in Crowley's eyes.

“Claire.” Castiel berated and turned to face the demon again. “I'll meet you there.”

“Bring the lightning bugs of course. In the meantime, I've got to go teach my underling some manners.” Crowley twiddled his fingers again at Jody and Claire before vanishing.

Cas exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Turning to frown at the young girl. “The demon is not someone you want to know.”

Jody agreed. “So what's the plan?”

Castiel felt Sam and Dean both want out so he put his hands inside the jeep and let them out into the cab. Jody leaned back as they swirled around. Their feelings at the moment seemed all over the place. Sam went to the dash and made the clock blink rapidly.

“I agree.” Cas said and faced the confused sheriff. “It would be safer for you two to find us a place to stay here. I do not know how long this process will take, and I would feel better to have some kind of secured place for them to recuperate when they return to the physical world.”

Dean shoved Sam out of the radio and flashed his own message.

“We will.” Cas answered his friend and said to the humans, “It would be best to get the vehicles out of here in any case.” He went to the Impala, following both souls who started to swirl around the car, checking out her condition in their absence. Dean sparked angrily at the smudge left behind by the demon. A wisp of sulfur on the black paint and Cas blew it off, rubbing the spot cleaner then the rest of the car. It had rained and left tree litter all over. Dean kept on sparking but Cas knew that he was more pleased that she was in one piece and present then her slightly dirtied condition. Sam checked over Cas's truck and gave a slow blink to show the all clear of any negative influence the demons might have had on it.

Jody knew that with demons present in the area, there was no way in hell she was going to leave her kid alone at some hotel in town. Her skin would not stop crawling at the sight of them. “Claire? You know how to drive the jeep so you take the wheel, I'll take the truck and Castiel will have the Impala. No speeding. Just follow me.” as she spoke she was pulling up the GPS inside the police jeep to search for the nearest motel, if there was one.

Castiel was directed to the spare key Dean had hidden underneath the car, and the engine started up with the familiar purr. Jody came over to the Impala and smiled at how happy the glowing souls seemed now that they were back home. Sam settled more or less in his spot and Dean kept on getting in Cas's way as the angel tried to see the dash beyond.

“Dean. You can't drive, move over, let the man see.” Jody chided. “Castiel, gonna need your keys.” She reminded and accepted it from the angel. “I'll text when we find a place.” She saw the souls in the passenger side move slower in their swirls. It didn't take a mind reader to see that they were worried. “We'll be fine. Good luck, boys.”

Both of them blinked slowly at her and Cas bowed his head in respect. “Don't worry. Crowley wouldn't be here if he did not have anything promising.” Cas assured and waited for Jody to step back to pull out of the area and onto the road. Since the brothers knew the layout of the town, they directed Cas where to go to meet up with Crowley. It was at a closed fast food restaurant and Crowley was waiting for them out back. Weeds and even a few saplings grew tall out of the parking lot and around the building, some even sprouting from on top.

Castiel pocketed the key and Dean exited first, keeping himself between Crowley and Cas while Sam hovered over Cas's left side. Taking up flanking positions as they entered. Sam scoped out the area while Dean stayed nearer to Cas for protection. Crowley assumed it was for his own but it was for the angel instead. Sam flickered the all clear to Dean who flickered back.

“Are you done?” Crowley sighed. “When I make a deal, I keep it. I have no intention of backstabbing you little nightlights.” His hand waved about dismissively.

Dean bristled and sparked at the description but was calmed at Sam's presence. The King of Hell led them into the dining room where all the windows were blocked off and a rather large sigil was burned neatly into the floor. A good 15 feet in diameter with too much Latin script written inside to read, mixed in with the written language of demons. All around the outer edges were the numerous tables and chairs, shoved to the walls along with everything else dumped inside. The sigil in the center free of any speck of debris. One thing about the demon, he worked fast.

The brothers circled the area slowly, the buzzing in the air indicating that they were talking about it rapidly. Coming back around again, Sam went to Cas's right side and bobbed to show that he is indicating, 'yes'. Unwilling to use Morse code in front of Crowley because no doubt the demon would know what he's saying.

Crowley pulled up a chair and sat down regally. “Now, for this spell, I will need a sample of their DNA. The reapers left naught a scratch of it in that building. This is just a formality. Letting you know that I will be retrieving it from the bunker since the Impala is warded from here to kingdom come.” He said and promptly vanished. Sam and Dean jump into the air and spark about in shock and dismay. Castiel raises his hands to calm them down and they nearly attack the demon when he arrives a minute later with two plastic baggies with a few hairs in each.

Crowley is surprised by the reaction and take a few quick steps back from the approaching sparking souls. Looking as pissed as they can be. He held out the bags to the sides and stood his ground when he remembered that the Winchesters could not do much of anything at the moment in the state they're in.

“Something got your flickers in a twist?” He asked and the room calmed a fraction. “I didn't snoop about, Loves. Lord knows I _could_ have. However, that would be in poor taste to treat an ally like that.” He assured and the souls sparked a few times. Incensed at how they're being spoken to. “You want to have a body or not?” Crowley squinted hard at them, daring them to keep up the pissy attitude. Part of the deal was that they don't try and kill Crowley so long as he's trying to help. If either side tries to start a fight, the deal could be null and void.

That got them to settle back next to Cas. Crowley set the bags next to a bowl and a few pages with indecipherable lettering on it. Checking over it with a keen eye one last time. “Now. If you would both enter the sigil in the center, we can get started.” At their hesitance he huffed, exasperated. “We made a deal, I am not the one trying to break it right now. _Again_.”

That finally got them moving as they went to the center and settled down when Crowley held his hand out and indicated they needed to actually touch it, as best they could anyway, without going through the floor. The demon raised his other hand over the bowl half filled with ingredients, dropping the dirty blond and longish brown hairs inside along with a vial of water.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The demon started with a grave tone as a quick prank and chuckled at the sparks of outrage. He wiped a nonexistent happy tear from his eye before he continued on in a strange dialect that not even Castiel knew. “ Velumme te. Da li bi zelila plesati sa mnom? Laku noc. A vi. Sretan put!”

The demon set the bowl's contents on fire with a snap of fingers. It flickered in greens and browns similar to the Winchester's eye colors. Sam and Dean's souls shuttered in the sigil, swirling fast, entwined around each other before separating and spinning individually. Their tendrils of wispy light coming apart from their main soul cloud before zipping back into place, only to be thrown out again from centrifugal force. Miniature tornadoes of light particles. The overhead lights suddenly came to life only to blow out in a rain of sparks. Castiel stood at the ready for trouble. The soul's lights exploded outwards but remained inside the sigil. Merging together and separating every few seconds. Even though they were spread out a hundred times their original size, the souls glowed brighter then ever before. As if powered by dozens of huge lightning bolts. The souls slightly split apart one last time, like two soap bubbles made out of condensing mist, attached to the ground more then each other. Colors coming out of the white dome mists, faded nearly white but appearing like oil in a rain puddle all along the outsides. Castiel could have sworn he saw a vague plaid shape in the swirling colors mixed in with dirty blue before it was caught up again in the torrent.

Finally, the twin mists slowed their spinning to a stop and sank down from each of their impressive sizes. Colors becoming somewhat more solid before returning to the pure white smoky substance. Barely resembling souls at all now, they looked more like cigarette smoke trapped in an invisible dome that was lit from inside.

Then the domes shrank. Each condensed down and down. Becoming nearly blindingly bright, even for the supernatural beings present. Shoving the nuclear explosions into 8 foot diameter spheres with blurred edges. Pulsing incredible light and energy inside the sigil.

Crowley covered his eyes with one hand while shouting over the roar of energy, “Soy el rey de los pollos!”

A loud bang thundered within the restaurant, shattering everything even remotely fragile and breakable. The kitchen crumbled along with the front entryway and everywhere outside of a 30 foot radius from the center of the fifteen foot diameter sigil. Castiel fell to his knees, one hand covering up his face from the debris outside of the sigil, spiraling in the air like a tornado. His other hand raised blindly towards the brothers. Too loud to hear anything besides splitting wood and glass crashing mid air.

The soul's lights shrank down and as they compressed further still, and became bright as twin stars. Sizzling the surfaces all around. Burning everything without having to use flames. An intense inferno that focused more on the walls, chairs, and tables then the two outside of the sigil. The spell protecting them from harm.

Then, all at once. The light stopped. The room wide tornado calmed and debris fell from the air. Sliding through the dust cloud in the same circular paths they'd been on, like wind cut off by a closing window.

Crowley had been half hiding behind the now half charred table that held the spell bowl. He stood up slowly. Looking towards the sigil and waiting for the roughly four foot tall cloudy mist to settle into recognizable human shapes. It kept on settling. When the mist sank lower then three foot high, he began to get worried. They should have seen two heads and shoulders by now.

Castiel got to his feet again, eyes transfixed on the ever shrinking mist that condensed further and further into itself. Initially they thought it was just debris in the air that was caught up with the wind and naturally gravitated towards the center once the spell was done, but this didn't act like normal debris in the air. The glowing mist dulled its brilliant light as it condensed even further. Down. Down. _Down_. Far past the point where there should have been two full grown men.

Two feet of dimming mist. One.

Cas shot the demon a terrified look that quickly turned to one of intense anger at the betrayal.

Crowley's jaw dropped. At a loss. He stepped back, hands slowly raising in self defense.

“It... it should have worked. I did everything right...” Crowley stammered quietly. Wings or no, Castiel would find him anywhere in the world, and kill him no matter where the demon hid. The deal he made would bound the consequences to him and the angel. There was no escaping it, but the demon couldn't help but try and at least back away from the angel. Plead for mercy.

“ _What did you do_?” Castiel growled and his eyes glowed blue with pure wrath. His blade out in half a second as he started forward.

“It should have worked!” Crowley said, back running into the wall and feeling the heat from the scorched wood pass through his suit, burning him. He hissed in pain and stepped forward just enough to keep his body from catching on fire.

Castiel lunged forward, blade out and cut Crowley's arm as he dodged the attack. Pushing the angel off of him and retreating around the room, backing up into discarded tables, chairs and debris. The demon may be stronger, but the angel had millennia of soldier's skills behind him, and rage fueling him on. Cas only missed because of his emotions running high. Schooling his stance into one better suited for battle. The very air crackled with electricity and heavenly wrath.

Crowley knew he was so very fucked. “Money back guarantee!”

“I don't want your _money_!” Castiel roared and sliced through the demon's other arm to the bone, as Crowley quickly slipped past before he lost the entire limb. He couldn't land a blow on the angel, but he could try and outrun him. Buying himself a minute at most.

Crowley sprinted to the side and tripped on a fallen chair onto the inactive sigil, landing hard on his side and sliding a few feet towards the center. His head banged loudly on the ground and he caught sight of something there. The demon's eyes going comically wide his hand shot forward and he grabbed the first one he saw, rolling onto his back and brandishing it above him like a shield even though it barely peeked out of his fist.

“Stop! It worked!” Crowley shouted, exhilarated at his new discovery.

Castiel was standing overhead, both hands on the blade handle, the silver point angled downwards, readied and anxious for the fatal downward stroke into Crowley's chest, when he saw what was in the demon's hand.

His fingers slipped their tight grip on the handle and his breath felt like it had been punched out of him. It can't be...

There, as wide eyed as he, was _Dean_. His shrunken human body gripped in a nearly too tight fist. Small arms and head the only things visible over the dirtied thumb and fingers of the demon's curled fingers. Movement on the ground caught Cas's eye and there was Sam, half sprawled out and gaping at the titans above. Both wearing the same clothes they had when they'd perished, their bodies whole, healthy and unharmed.

Physical, _real_ , yet minuscule.

“C-Cas?” Dean sputtered out. The demon loosened his grip once he saw how the small human was struggling.

The angel standing overhead finally gave Crowley space to move. Lowering his blade to one side, away from them for their safety.

Crowley lowered the shrunken hunter down a fraction as he turned to the side and regarded the other four inch tall hunter. Lowering his hand to cup behind the tiny figure he ignored the frantic jerking motions and plucking Sam up off of the ground with slightly more care then he had with Dean. Sam let out a nearly inaudible shout as he found himself surrounded by fingers as long as he was tall. The dirtied hands came closer but still held each brother in a fist as Crowley sat up on the floor. Completely at a loss for words as he stared down at the doll sized hunters. His spell had worked, but, he never imagined this would be the result. Crowley nearly laughed at the random idea that according to the deal, he would be taking these tiny things to meetings to show off and prove his mettle and worth to new demon hires. He'd be a laughingstock.

Crowley wouldn't be getting much from their deal, but neither are they. At least he gets to live another day now that Cas is no longer on the warpath. Castiel might change his mind when all this sinks in. He'll have to spin it in a positive light so he's not seen as the villain. He tried his best dammit!

The hunters meanwhile shot bewildered looks at each other and frightened ones up at the towering figures on both sides. Jaws working soundlessly as they tried to process this turn of events.

Crowley couldn't hold in the brief laugh that bubbled up. He held out his closed hands towards Castiel who had to set his blade down on the floor to accept the small frightened humans in his cupped hands.

“There.” Crowley broke the silence with a diplomatic yet smug voice, “I upheld my end of the deal. Two corporeal bodies for the hunters' Winchester.” he only promised that, there was nothing said about the size of their forms after all. They were the ones that should have put it in writing. It's not his fault. Crowley stood up when Castiel leaned back far enough to sit on his heels.

Castiel was hunched over, hands cradling the humans who barely moved at all. Still trying to take it all in and figure out what to do next. They all looked up when they heard the demon brush off his suit a few feet away.

“Farewell, Gentlemen.” Crowley bowed low and promptly disappeared from sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Future chapters might take a hot minute because I literally just started a new job and it is very labor intensive.  
> So! We finally get to see the tiny Winchesters! Their POV will start off the next one when I get around to writing it :)


	13. Lightweights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean's new point of view has them quaking in their boots.

Chapter Thirteen:

Lightweights

 

 

 

Lights. _Everywhere_. Nothing but dazzling lights. Sounds came as if from a distance as all that they were, their whole existence in the world was spinning and splitting apart before crashing back together instants later. The brothers now had intimate knowledge of what a centrifuge feels like as their souls were ripped and sewn back together over and over. Briefly even colliding inside each other before being pulled back to their own cores. Thoughts and memories merging before being torn apart.

They couldn't even scream.

There was no communication. Even on the most basic primitive level. There was only the blinding lights and crackling energy shaping them inside and out into something new. They could feel it on several different planes of existence that this had never been done before. And not in a 'We hadn't experienced it,' kind of way, but a 'No really, this could blow up planets, rewrite time, or make a grilled cheese sandwich out of them,' level of unpredictability.

It was not a comforting thought or feeling as they exploded and reformed a few thousand times within the space of seconds.

Finally, after an eternity of time had passed, or perhaps a few minutes, who knows, they felt themselves separate one last time and stay separated. Vision was nonexistent but they no longer felt the invading presence of the other. Sam tried to keep his thoughts together but they were fuzzy at best. He had the impression of the room growing larger, slowly. Dean tried to will himself into unconsciousness because this sinking sensation made him want to throw up. Which was impossible since he didn't have a stomach at the moment. Which exacerbated the feelings instead of relieve them. Dean knew if he were unconscious that everything would sort itself out on its own and he'll catch up with reality when he's good and ready to.

Dean was somewhat aware of the presence of a floor beneath his main bulk, if it could be called bulk when he's merely a cloud of mist, not even able to hold onto his previous free floating and will powered soul form anymore. As if his soul cloud of light was put through a blender and then evaporated into the air. The floor was a welcomed presence because it meant that he hadn't dissipated into the aether nor were they caught by Reapers and thrown into the void. The former hunter was pretty sure 'the void' would not have a wooden floor in it.

Dean's vision slowly coalesced as his existence condensed down. Guessing that whatever the spell was supposed to do was working because as the surroundings cleared, he could see the restaurant walls along the outer edges, but he'd lost his enhanced soul vision. No UV lights, radio waves, or infrared. It was becoming clearer by the second, but something was still way off about it. Surely he hadn't spent _that_ much time as a all seeing soul to completely forget what it was like to have human eyes again? They were souls for less then two weeks top side, living humans for decades. There was no good reason he could come up with for their surroundings to be looking so... odd. Stretched out.

Sam's vision came to him a few seconds faster then his brother's. Finding it hard to see in the nearly omnipresent way that they had before when they were unadulterated souls. He turned his attention to the familiar sensations next to him and watched his brother go from a cloud of white dimming mist to something more solid. Looking down at himself and being shocked that he was now seeing an impression of clothes. See through and wispy, but blessedly _there_.

He wanted to call out to Dean but guessed that the vocal chords weren't formed yet. Movement caught his eye as he turned his forming head to the side. Everything beyond a few feet was hazy, but he definitely saw a tall shape move from one side to the other quickly. It was dark and the lower half of it kept splitting and combining only to split again where it joined the rest of the form. Bipedal running. Sam thought of the motions and shapes and something clicked in his head, telling him the extremely tall thing was running. In a circle around him. More movement and there was now another tall thing right behind it. Chasing it?

Sam noticed his brother come into being nearby, blinking new eyes at the sight of Dean laying flat out on his back looking up. Heaving breaths into his lungs as his hands came up above his face, turning this way and that. Sam noticed he was laying on his side and looked down at his hands that were half propping him up. Lifting his free hand and twiddling fingers. It wasn't quite perfect, since they were still technically dead, but, it was an improvement. He willed the digits to move and so they did without haste.

He nearly sobbed with relief. The fingers felt real as they rubbed against each other. Sam used his free hand to touch his face and felt his hair. There were muted sensations but he could definitely feel the strands and tell that they were attached to his head. His vision no longer able to see in every direction or in every spectrum. Sam closed his eyes and laid back like Dean. A laugh about to bubble up from his chest when the ground unexpectedly jumped underneath him. Bucking violently and sending him sprawling out and stunned.

Dean was closer to the impact and resulting shock wave and he struggled to sit up. Something had landed too close nearby but before he could get his new eyes to work, he felt immense pressure suddenly grip him from his chest to his feet. His awareness was left somewhere down below as he shot up into the air, too fast to think. Then he felt the thing that had held him tight, twist him around so fast to cause whiplash in his brand new neck.

There in front of him was a mountainous form. It was threatening to crash down on him as something behind him roared almost too loud to make out, air thundering a sound too close to parse what made it. Vibrating his very bones with the intensity.

Somehow Dean heard and understood the words a moment later. Once his mind caught up with his ears. It didn't make much sense until he finally was able to see the shape in front of him come together in a way that made sense to his newly reformed brain.

That was Cas.

Cas was standing above him, hundreds of feet tall with his blade out and held fast with two hands. Aiming right for him. Fear gripped his heart and he froze.

Dean simply could not understand what was happening. Was this Cas's true form? He did mention he was as tall as the Chrysler building, but, this body doesn't look _quite_ that tall. Still fucking huge and scary as shit. Dean knew logically that Cas would never hurt him. It shouldn't matter that he had a blade in his hands. It must be meant for whatever was behind Dean. The hunter swallowed a few times, trying to will his terror back down to think about why Cas was holding a blade three times his size at him.

A spark of realization that it must be meant for the thing that held him tight. Cas was coming to his rescue! Dean turned to see the threat and there was Crowley. A fucking _huge_ Crowley, but still recognizably him. This version of Crowley wasn't only huge, but looked the same as he had for years, before he and Sam's super soul senses. No spikes or horns or fangs at all. Just a big ass demon inside the human vessel. The demon's body was laying out on the ground, looking between Dean and the angel above.

Dean's hands gripped onto the thing holding him and he finally recognized it as a fist. A damned five fingered fist. These were Crowley's fingers. So the demon's true form is human shaped and huge too? Dean twisted in the grip and saw his brother looking up at everyone from far below, but could tell that Sam had no better answers then anyone else.

Cas would know. Dean peered up again at his friend and saw Cas lower his blade slowly.

“C- Cas?” Dean hated how frightened his voice sounded but at least he had one now. No one would blame him for being hesitant to address something so mindbogglingly massive who was currently wielding a shining sharp angel blade as big as a lamp pole directly at him.

Castiel stepped back, his blade being brought down to the ground. Crowley's fist loosened up around Dean and he sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden loss of the tight support. Dean clutched tighter onto the wide dirtied finger in front of him. The huge body twisted around behind him and Dean watched helplessly as Crowley's other hand darted down to wrap around Sam.

For Sam, this was too much. He could barely see Dean's head and shoulders peeking out from a hand that was twice as long as he was tall. Lifted from the ground in a speed that no human would be able to survive. And now there was another hand coming straight for him and he had no time whatsoever to dodge out of the way.

The thick fingers swept behind him and angled into a scoop-like shape that forced his feet forward out from under him. He fell onto his rear end in the cup of the fingers but a half second later they curled in the rest of the way and pinned him to the palm behind him. He couldn't move a muscle as the huge hand rocketed him up into the air and next to Dean. If he had any food in him, it would have been left behind, one way or another. The world twisted and whooshed by him as the demon twisted forward again. Seeing Castiel looming dangerously overhead made Sam gulp audibly.

From this closer vantage, he tore his eyes away from the monstrously huge angel and demon and got a better look at his brother. He could see that Dean looked exactly the same as he had the morning they died. He guessed he looked similar at the very brief look of relief on Dean's face. To see that Sam suffered none of the injuries that fateful day gave them. Indeed, Sam didn't even feel the sore back that he'd had for a week prior to the hunt, and Dean wasn't favoring his left hand anymore. The sprain came about from slipping and falling the night before they died on the motel steps of all things. Such a stupid reason to get minorly injured in their long history of injuries, but they had a job to do so Dean popped some pain meds and dealt, just like they always do.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, wordlessly asking if the other was ok and getting a 'Yeah, I'm good.' look back. Then, the elephants in the room. Now that they were seeing clearer, they couldn't help but notice that the two titanic sized beings fit a little too well in the space they were all in. But before they could comment on it, Crowley's laugh rumbled behind them and as he continued to speak, they found themselves dropped unceremoniously into the cupped hands of their angel. Loosing balance immediately on the soft lumpy surface, they landed sprawled out, half on top of each other.

Crowley's final words making a lasting impression, “Farewell, Gentlemen.”

They got themselves untangled from each other and somewhat upright and turned around to face the area where the demon had been just a second ago.

The brothers shot a frightening glance over at Cas but quickly realized if they wanted to look the angel in the eye they'd have to look up. _Way up._ Directly overhead in fact. A view neither of them had ever seen of their seraph before. At least, not without their former soul vision. Human sight was limited but at the moment, it was still very overwhelming to look up when they added vertigo to the list of things they had to deal with now.

Castiel's jaw was dropped open as he stared at the spot where Crowley was. He scowled and stood up abruptly.

The fast movements caused the tiny humans to fall down flat onto his cupped hands and bounce when he reached his full height.

“Fuck!” Dean cussed and kept himself laying down, hands now holding onto a fold in Castiel's palm with a kind of desperate white knuckled grip. Sam waited for the movements to still before he tentatively sat up next to his older brother. One hand on a nearby finger that curled inwards more then the others, Sam's other hand patting Dean's shoulder to show moral and physical support.

Sam leaned to the side very slightly to see that the ground was over a dozen stories down from where they were, and looking at the middle buttons on Cas's shirt told him that they weren't even at the angel's full height. His gaze went back up to catch Castiel's eye and he shivered when he realized that Cas was already staring down at them in his hands. Studying them.

Words escaped the younger Winchester so he just gave a tense smile instead. Instinct telling him not to piss of the person holding them in cupped hands. Any second and these hands could pull apart from the other and they'd be dumped to the ground far below. Their brief resurrection lasting all of two minutes.

As if reading his mind, Castiel's intense stare softened and they found themselves rising up again which sent Dean into hysterics.

“Fuck!fuck!fuck!fuck!fuckingfuck!fuck!”

Castiel paused and curled in a few fingers to touch Dean's trembling back and he flinched away from them, curling onto his side before running into Sam next to him, and grabbing hold of the other hunter with everything he's got like a spider monkey. No jokes about his reactions at all since Sam was feeling nearly as frightened by their precarious position.

Sam kept one hand on Cas's finger, while the other went around Dean's shoulder in an awkward hug. He looked up again at the guilt riddled face above and said, “H-Heights. He's got a thing about heights, Cas.” With a bit of forced nonchalance since the angel terrified the shit out of him too, but at least he didn't have the added worry of heights to deal with. “So uh, wanna tell me what the hell just happened?”

“On the ground!” Dean yelped out before shaking his head and mustering up some courage to let go of Sam a little. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes squeezed shut as he said more or less into the middle distance rather then facing up or down. “Or somewhere uh, solid. Only just got this body back and I uh, don't want it to go splat.”

“I would never drop you.” Castiel said and damn did it sound even more intimidating and not at all reassuring when it's vibrating the very air around them. The volume alone had Dean taking deep breaths to regain some composure. “You both are safe with me.”

“Yeah... yeah of course, Cas. Yeah. It's just... high.” Dean let go of Sam's shoulder long enough to indicate just how high he was comfortable with, with his hand flat out in front of him, and then where they were at right now, lifting said hand far over his head.

The angel nodded mutely. Biting his lip to keep from speaking too much to the scared humans in his hands.

“Thanks Cas, we just uh, need a minute on solid ground.” Sam articulate the request a bit better. Absolutely nothing could prepare them for when the angel started walking.

Dean started humming brokenly to keep himself from loosing it completely. Sam squinted his eyes against the breeze that blew around them at the speed Cas moved. He wasn't taking his time getting to a nearby table. Probably eager to let Dean down, but had the adverse effect of freaking him out just a bit more from the speed and sway in those footsteps far below. Feeling for all the world like a skyscraper about to crumble in high winds. Or that old black and white footage of the bridge that wobbled back and forth before it finally fell into the water below. Dean felt like that poor car on top, swaying side to side just enough to mess with his equilibrium and make him question if he was even in the right body and not some jellyfish in a swinging plastic bag.

Cas paused at the nearest table, but discovered that it, along with most everything in the dining room was charred and still smoking hot. No decent surface could be found here so he kept on walking into the kitchen and realized that that crash he heard earlier was an understatement. The kitchen was obliterated.

“Bear with me.” Castiel muttered. Modulating his volume now that he knows his regular speaking voice was far too loud for his passengers. He held his cupped hands closer to his chest, fingers curling upwards to provide better protection from falling off of the side. He turned away from the kitchen to try the front door. The porch like area was also a huge mess. He frowned down at the two and knew that he had to use his hands if they ever wanted out of this building.

Sam caught on before he said anything and addressed the others. “You know, I think it would be better if we were somewhere more stable while you find a way out of here.”

Castiel nodded and looked around for a place to put them where they would not be burned or crushed.

Sam knew Dean would hate him for this but what other choice did they have? “I think a pocket would do just fine, Cas. Like your shirt one? I think the trench coat pockets would sway too much, probably bang us into the walls or something.”

“ _What?!_ ” Dean jerked his head up at the plans being made, words like crushed and banged making his heart rate pick up even more. He clambered to his knees to better see what they were dealing with. Palling at the sight of the place. He could see part of the sigil in the center of the floor and said, “Why don't we just, uh, try again? Get us back to normal size in a do-over?”

“I do not know what all Crowley did to transform you. I would not know where to start with a counter-spell or an alteration.”

“I mean, what's the worse that could happen? We are already dead.”

“You don't remember the spell working, do you.” Cas asked but already knew the answer. He sighed, “Your souls were practically atomized. Clouds of finest mist that condensed down into your current forms. Your soul mist could have easily been blown away had we done the spell outside or with the barest of drafts. Lost in every sense of the word. If you were to go through that again without fully knowing what went wrong? Or right?” Cas shook his head. “I don't want to risk loosing you again. I was so scared that...” The great angel sniffled and lifted his head to turn it away. Adams apple bobbing.

Dean knew intimately what he meant and stopped pushing. He should be grateful that they are already a step in the right direction. From how fast Crowley left added with the smug look on his face, it basically told him in no uncertain terms that Crowley feels like his part of the deal is settled and they're stuck like this. For good.

Better make the most of it. At least they didn't have to strain themselves to speak. Or possess an animal to feel something again. Really, loosing a few feet of height was a small price to pay for all the things that they got now. This _was_ a success. They just had to focus on the silver lining.

Dean pat his hand on the palm below for Cas's attention. Those blue eyes snapped right down to him and he felt that prickle of fear flare up at the blue eyed intensity. The angel could stare before, but seeing that on a face that's as big as a billboard? Damn. “So uh, I think Sammy's right. Pocket sounds good to me. Secure.”

Castiel lost a bit of the worry and tension between his eyebrows and he nodded once. If Dean's willing to deal, and Sam is alright with it, he knew that they can do this. One step at a time.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love!  
> Thank you for your support!


	14. Paradise by the Dashboard Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step one - get out of the restaurant.  
> Step two - get to the Impala  
> Step three - Pry Dean out of the Impala so they can get to the motel
> 
>  
> 
> I think it's the longest chapter yet and yet nothing terrible happens at all! - I'm loosing my touch!

Chapter Fourteen:

Paradise by the Dashboard Light

 

 

 

Castiel knew that Sam was right, his button up shirt pocket would be safest to transport them, but getting them in posed another minor problem. He knew that they wouldn't appreciate simply grabbing them and shoving them in, but the risk of them slipping and falling if they climbed in themselves was too great. His shirt was far from stable and unyielding. While he mused about the problem, his friends were constantly giving him several fearful looks. As if he was suddenly going to drop them, squash them, or worse yet; eat them whole now that they're small.

He forced himself to look elsewhere so he wasn't staring outright. They relaxed but then the grips of four small hands became tighter and he sighed with minor frustration. Now they probably thought he was going to forget about them being cupped in his hands. As if he could forget?

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling a headache coming on. They were supposed to be human right now. Normal, taller then his vessel, _humans_. Not _this_. A pathetic farce of a functioning form. They were defenseless like this. Sure bravado and a can-do attitude helped them go up against great foes in the past, but the angel severely doubted that that cavalier attitude would help them out at all at the moment. If they get too cocky, they would end up dead... again. Or worse. If they were crushed by any number of things, they could be stuck in those vessels but now too mangled to do anything. Trapped for eternity in a conscious but completely morbid vegetative state. A pile or puddle of flesh with a soul attached. Unable to escape.

Castiel sucked in a gasp at that thought. His fingers curling in closer around them protectively, the brothers now sitting side by side on one palm while the other nearly pinned them down from all other sides and partly above them. So small that he nearly lost sight of them within his fingers. Castiel stared down at their tiny fragile bodies. Anything could get them killed again. _Anything_. A can of soda could kill them if it was put down without looking. They could get lost in slightly overgrown grass. Fall into a crack in the cement. A storm drain. A gopher hole. The possibilities were endless and over half of the scenarios Castiel's mind was coming up with involved him not even knowing that they were in trouble. Something so minor to people, unimaginably dangerous to them. That's not even including the multitudes of animals, monsters, humans.

He swallowed thickly, eyes wide with fear as his hands trembled around them. That just made them even more scared and it was like a bad feedback loop that he had to end. He took a breath and relaxed his fingers just a fraction so the two of them were no longer forced together. Dean grabbed on tighter to a fold of skin in his palm but must have realized what he was doing 'cause the tiny fingers let go of it to hold onto the bottom of his own jacket instead. Sam nudged Dean's arm that was closest and left it there to help ground him.

“Cas?” Sam called up warily, unsure if he wanted to talk to him, lest he say the wrong thing.

Castiel's eyes softened and he lifted a finger to stroke Sam's back. The man startled from it, running sideways into Dean who steadied his younger brother.

“Just a finger, Sam.” he whispered and helped Sam sit back again. He probably didn't think Cas could hear him.

“Cas, man,” Sam started again. “What's going on?”

Castiel swallowed again so that his voice wouldn't come out quite as rough from worry after it had become dry. Accidentally growling at them wont help anything. Instead of answering Sam's question, he said, “You can trust me. I will not let you down. I know that this is unprecedented, but I will look after you as you had for me.”

Dean's fear turned to slight indignation, but mostly relief. The sentiment heard loud and clear in his friends tone. Dean wanted out of this trashed restaurant and back on the road asap. The air in the huge room was stifling with all of the charred and still smoking walls, furniture and debris. “Roger that.” Dean croaked out and cleared his throat. “So, I guess you can start by getting us out of here. This is kinda like flying angel air. You've taken us places before, so this isn't that big of a deal.” He reasoned. Sam nodded along. Thinking about it in more familiar terms helped.

“Alright then, Cas,” Sam started, turning to see past the arching fingers to the opening in the wall where there had been a patio at one point in the restaurant's history. Getting a plan of action together was what he tended to do to prioritize the situations. Freaking out should wait till they are safe and home again. And they can't go home unless they get out of here first and meet up with Jody and Claire. Wont they be surprised... he put that into the next set of plans to deal with after this. “That looks like your best bet. We'll be fine in the pocket.”

“About that.” Castiel said, bringing them closer to his upper chest, but at a much slower pace this time to keep from repeating the freak out from earlier. “How did you wish to enter?”

Dean turned to kneel on the palm, not quite ready to stand on the unstable surface and peered past the chasm between the hands and the shirt. The pocket in question half hidden behind the tan trench coat. He wanted to be brave about it and just climb on in, but relented. “I don't know about Sam, but uh, for me, you can just grab me and put me in there, so I don't slip or fall trying to balance.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother at that. He was sure Dean wouldn't want to be pinned down in a gigantic fist but it made sense. His head bobbled and he agreed there were worse methods. But when the right hand moved away from the left, he instantly had his doubts. Centering mainly around his sanity as fingers came in swiftly and wrapped around his chest, waist, and legs and he felt the warmth and pressure first and foremost before his feet left the other palm. Sucking in a gasp as he was ferried over to the wall of white. Castiel used his pinky finger underneath Sam's feet to open it up and the hand twisted and turned Sam to fit inside. Sam tried to help by grabbing the fabric edge of it but it was ripped from his hands as Cas changed his mind mid move and angled him the other way. Then, the pressure around him released suddenly and he was left sprawling at the bottom looking up at three fingers retreating his narrow space.

Dean watched as their hand rail became a claw machine and grab onto Sam. The speed of it, while probably slow for Cas, was hard to track for him as the fingers flipped up and around Sam swiftly and smoothly, and he shared a stunned look with his brother just before he lost sight of him as he was raised up from the palm he was just sitting in seconds prior. Plucked up like a toy.

Dean made a few aborted calls as he watched the hand holding Sam twisted and turned until he caught a glimpse of Sam's body being half shoved half dropped into the waiting pocket. The top edge pulled out far as it could go to help the behemoth angel see inside.

“Are you alright?” Cas's voice came out worried as his brow pinched.

Dean watched a few slight bulges form in the fabric and then finally a couple of hands grab hold of the rim and Sam pulled his head up to see out. Dean waved feebly at him. Sam dropped back down again and Castiel's huge head nodded once at whatever Sam said. His brother's voice a faint buzz from even this distance and separated by a single layer of fabric.

Sam's view was limited to fabric all around and below him, forcing his feet to turn to the sides or else his toes would bend too far up or down at the bottom seam as he got them under himself. The opening at the top widened with an index finger tugging it out. First random thought he had was Cas needs to shave something fierce. His stubble poking out of his lightly tanned skin shown more prominently now that it was mere inches above him. Cas's blue eyes creased in worry as his voice came out rumbling even louder now that he was leaning against the chest behind him. It was kinda sweet to hear the concern over something so trivial. Monsters had done far worse then drop them down a few feet into what's basically a soft clean bag. With a built in heater no less.

Sam reached up to the folded fabric edge a couple feet above his head and pulled himself upright to look out at Dean. Curious what his older brother looks like chilling out there on a hand from this distance. God they were small. Getting a slightly more objective view was startling. He let himself drop back down to save his strength for when he really needs it.

Sam knew he didn't have to yell with Cas's ears so close, “I'm fine, thanks. Just trying to get upright.” he threaded his fingers through the fabric itself to help anchor him in place and stomped down a small section of frayed seam to make a slightly better surface to stand on.

Dean, meanwhile, was expecting the hand to return but it stayed there and kept the pocket open. He was about to ask what the hold up was before he lost his nerve, but yelped when the palm he was standing on started to tilt downwards and he lost his already precarious balance. Sure he was about to slip off and fall, he threw his shoulders back towards the palm in a last ditch effort to create enough surface friction to stay on the hand, when the surrounding fingers suddenly closed in all around him. His downward descent halted abruptly as he found himself encased in the warm tree sized digits.

Sam peered through the vertical button hole and knew Dean would have something to say about Cas's decision, but hoped that he'd bite his tongue till they could discuss this elsewhere. Preferably on solid ground. As it was, Sam was struggling to stand upright in the narrow hammock that was an inch taller then he was as Cas's body moved all around him. A shadow came over the outside of the pocket fabric and he could see the other hand approach from above. Dean's boots now visible from the bottom curled finger as it was brought closer and closer. Sam shouted up at Cas, “Don't drop him in like you did me!”

The approaching hand stilled and was lifted up slightly. One blue eye visible from beyond fingers. Even if he couldn't see the eyebrows, he could tell Cas was curious what he meant.

“Ok, uh, bring him closer and I'll pull him in, just loosen the grip.” Sam instructed and reached up with both hands towards the brown leather boots.

“You'll what?” Dean asked, feet wiggling. His head practically encased in its own finger and thumb. Sounds muffled and echoing strangely.

“Just, calm down, Dean. I gotcha.” Sam said and pat the shoes once Cas lowered him closer again. The skin of the smallest finger uncurled and Dean started to slide downwards as the ring finger opened up next. Dean's weight making him slip down a little faster. On instinct, Dean's feet kicked out, trying to find leverage so he wouldn't fall. “Dean!” Sam shouted up, Cas froze but it was plenty of space for Dean to be pulled down. The second his older brother stilled in his struggling, Sam grabbed both boots and pulled hard and fast. Dean lost his grip and they both tumbled down inside the pocket. Sam ended up with Dean's knees in his stomach, which, if they were a few millimeters lower, could have been a bit worse for the younger Winchester's pride.

“Dean!” Sam wheezed and coughed. “You jerk! I told you to _calm down_!”

“How was I supposed to know what you were saying? Cas had his hands all over me!” he defended, trying to get off of Sam without giving him a black eye. It was nearly impossible due to the lack of flat ground underneath. With Sam pinned, laying down along the bottom, Dean had to kneel on an arm to get his other foot's toes underneath Sam's other side for leverage. Making him half straddle Sam as he wiggled his toes in underneath his torso to help him stand up. Sam too was pushing himself back away from Dean's body to a spot with fewer stomping boots. Finally gaining some standing room on the constantly shifting and swaying hammock, Dean grabbed hold of the button beside him and lent Sam a hand to pull him upright. Slapping the back of his head once he got his balance again.

“What was that for?!”

“For making me think I was gonna die!”

“Dean.” Sam nearly groaned. “We _are_ dead. We will always be dead. This?” He waved a hand down at his body. “Is basically an illusion. I mean sure, it seems real, but, it's not. Kinda like the Eiffel tower on the Las Vegas strip. Sure looks like the real thing, made up of similar materials, but it's not the real deal.”

“Not sure if you hadn't noticed yet, but we still feel _pain,_ Dude. Pretty sure where there's pain there could be death.” Dean wanted to fold his arms but that meant letting go of the wide button and he wasn't willing to give it up just yet.

“But it's not _real_ pain! It's just our minds expecting things to hurt! So they do!”

“So me slapping you shouldn't be a big deal?” Dean gave a sly smirk and raised his flat hand.

Sam beat him to it and they slap fight wrestled in the tight confines of the pocket.

Cas still had his fingers pinching the pocket open and watched the brothers bicker and brawl. No real heat behind it. Guessing that they're just relieving tension the good old fashioned Winchester way. Glad that if they're Ok enough to argue, they are relatively uninjured and ready for the next event. Because they're so small, every single thing is an “event” to them now and had to be treated as such.

Dean waved a dismissive hand at Sam once they called a truce. “Still. Point stands. We shouldn't try testing the theory that we can't die again.”

Sam rolled his eyes but agreed. There was nothing to benefit from risking their new bodies.

Dean reached up towards the edge of the pocket next to the large fingertips and tried to pull himself up to see out. Sam did the same on the other side of the fingers and had a smug grin that he was able to do it better then his older brother. Even though they aren't technically alive, some things still carried over. Dean's workout consisted solely of sparring matches and hunting, while Sam had a life of diligent exercise and healthy diet, _as well as_ hunting and sparring.

Dean hooked his arms over to keep himself from falling back down, and marveled at the new view. It was nothing like the view he'd had when he was still kicking, Cas was shorter then him when he was alive, and they weren't even positioned at his shoulders or head a few more stories above. There was something different about the landscape too. They couldn't kid themselves and think for a second that they were standing on the tiled ground when half their eyesight consisted of a few fingers eclipsing their view of each other unless they leaned far back. Their minds telling them that they are at least fifteen times higher then they would be if they were standing on their own down there.

Dean was still scared of heights, however, this wasn't the same as if he had no safety net all around him. He had been in lots of tall buildings and felt safe to lean out and take in the sights because he knew for a fact that the building would not crumble underneath him, give out suddenly. Cas may be moving constantly, but he knew that his friend truly would not let him down. Would watch out for him and be stronger then any building. Feeling a little bit safe for the first time since he woke up like this. Having a wall of angel behind him helped him feel like he and Sam are as protected as Cas says.

Castiel gradually let go of the pocket's edge, and let his hand drop down to his side once he was sure they weren't going to be climbing all the way out. The brothers shifted their slight weight to stay upright on the bending fabric and he watched the tops of their tiny heads turn this way and that as they looked around. He found it endearing and nearly said as much before clamping his mouth shut. Positive that they would not appreciate the notion aloud.

He let them have a couple of minutes before moving again. Their little legs kicking around till they had one in front and one in the back which tickled his chest. Finally, Castiel walked over to the hole in the wall again and bent forward. Both brothers shouting curses at the move. He bowed his head down to see them scrambling back from the pocket's edge and realized belatedly that the momentum they felt must have appeared to be tossing them up and out.

“My apologies.” he said, clearing his throat in embarrassment. All that speech from earlier and he had one moment of inattention.

His shirt hung down enough so that he no longer felt the brother's movements as they swayed slightly. Dean seemed to be sitting at the bottom, hands grabbing onto the inner frayed seam of the fabric below him. Sam was crouched down, also gripping the seam and looking warily up and out at the world beyond.

“It's ok.” Sam called up. “Just uh, took us by surprise.”

Castiel felt bad for scaring them all over again. Especially when they were in his supposedly 'safe' pocket. He squatted down to shuffle the debris out of the way horizontally more then lifting and stooping. Keeping his torso more upright now as he cleared a path outside. Scooting forward as he worked instead of standing and bending down to lift and move the heavy rubble. It took far longer, however, but he felt the brothers venture to the pocket's lip again to watch him work. Getting over their fears, he gradually gained their trust back by moving more predictably.

Finally, a path was somewhat cleared enough for him to climb over and out. Inhaling the fresh air outside of the half destroyed building. Cas wiped his brow of the soot that started to coat his skin and saw that they too had been getting steadily dirtier the longer they were in the smokey room.

He walked carefully to the Impala and eased into the driver's seat. Cas peered down at his pocket and waited for the request about their own seating arrangements.

Dean was grumbling something too low for him to hear.

“I'm sorry, Dean, I can't hear you...” Cas whispered and raised a hand towards the pocket.

“It's nothing, Cas.” Dean half shouted up. “It's just, I was hoping I'd get to drive her once we got our bodies back.” He shrugged but both of them could tell Dean was more upset then he was letting on.

“At least we got it back, right?” Sam lifted himself up to view the dashboard and his old seat next to Cas. “The reapers didn't blow it up, the demons left it alone. She's in one piece.”

“Yeah. And the size of Grand Central Station.” Dean spat out. Sighing in defeat. The view from the pocket wasn't enough though. He had to touch his beloved car to help him see the silver lining. “Cas? You wanna help me get to the dash?”

“Of course, though I wish to take us somewhere else first. There might be someone coming by and noticing this mess.” Castiel put the key in the ignition and drove them back to town, but not at the motel yet. Jody and Claire can wait a little longer.

He parked at the far end of a parking lot where there were enough overhead lights to illuminate the interior without them needing to light their own inside. Helping them stay unnoticed by random passersby. Cas lifted his hand outside the pocket and thought of a better way of getting them out without having to grab them, and dipped two fingers in, letting Dean climb up onto them on his own before lifting the tiny body up and out. His other hand splayed out below, fingers curled just in case, as he brought Dean over to the dashboard to let him down. Repeating the process so Sam could join him up there.

Dean walked along the dash, looking up and around at everything and frowning at how dirty the vents looked now that they were so much larger to him in size. Seeing down inside at a brand new angle. Vowing to give his baby a thorough cleaning soon as he can. Detail work that will make her shine better then any other car on the planet. Dean felt better about that idea. Who else has the ability to do that? Sure, it would likely take weeks to get everything, but, what else was he gonna do with his free time? Cas turned on the dashboard light to help the small human see better so he wouldn't trip and fall on an unexpected dip or bump. They were so small that even the seam connecting one section of dash to another was like a single stair up or down.

Sam sat with his legs dangling down off the rounded edge of the dashboard, with the top of the steering wheel in between he and Cas. Framing his view of the seated angel with a wide arch. While Dean explored his car, Sam asked some questions he had about what Cas saw of the sigil they were transformed in. What the languages meant, the symbols, their origins, and especially potential ways to recreate it. All theory of course, as none of them wanted the brothers to be blown apart as Castiel implied. The more they figured out about the sigil, the more they knew about their current bodies. What their new limitations could be without having to test them all out. If they fell from a great height, would they get hurt? Would they go hungry the same speed as humans or like Cas now who was at half or a quarter of his original powers. Or would they be like small mammals and need to eat constantly to keep up their energy. How much of what they are experiencing is what was remembered from past events, and what was actually happening?

Enough time had passed that Sam was forgetting what it was like to be human with human senses. Being bombarded with new experiences every few hours kept his brain from settling and processing. They got some insight from Dean's end as Dean added his two cents here and there while he inspected the front of the dash next, closest to Castiel. Only a thin ledge ran along far below, between the huge dials and displays and the inverted drop off into the footwell. Cas offered up his palm to help Dean down onto the thin ledge. Cas's hands ever present just beneath should Dean miss a step or lean back too far when he's looking above himself at the six circular displays.

Getting a real workout just climbing around various things in his car, Dean marveled at how well everything fit together with such style and class. When he was done inspecting the front of the dash, Cas helped him to the seat. The just under four inch tall Hunter didn't stay there for long due to the lack of anything interesting there to look at. He could probably fit most of himself inside the tape deck if he tried, but what would the point of that be? Dean bit his lip, still curious if he wanted to try for shits and giggles. He looked up from the seat to the glove box and imagined what it would look like in there too. The cigar box of Id's, burner cell phones, spare pistol and ammo and a stack of state maps to hide them all from view. Later. He'll get a few weeks to clean and organize Baby later when they're back at the bunker.

Dean begged Cas to pop the hood, and soon both tiny men stood at the front edge over the grill and gaped at the jungle of machinery inside. The overwhelming scents even more powerful now that they're surrounded by it. A demon sigil was painted ages ago on the underside of the hood, to keep the riff raff from tampering with her engine. Everything appeared pretty clean at the moment. No new leaks or breaks in the lines. But Dean knew that he'd need to get in there underneath the hoses and lines to make doubly sure nothing was amiss.

Castiel refused to put the smallest Winchester inside the engine itself until they get better lighting then the overhead parking lot lamps. Dean huffed and folded his arms petulantly. Like he was going to get lost in there. He'd rebuilt her a few times now, from near scratch. He could inspect her blindfolded.

“Cas. You're being really unfair about this.” Dean pouted, stomping a foot to get the giant's attention to how serious he should be taking this request. Sam snickered.

The minor tantrum went ignored as Cas gathered him up in a hand and gently returned him to the pocket. Dean flailed about while cursing up a storm for being man-handled. Cas rolled his eyes. Just because Castiel said he'd protect them, did not mean he had to wait on them hand and foot. Being the only one there that can drive, meant he needed to be the responsible one in getting them all back together. Also to let the others know in person what happened. A phone call wouldn't be as effective or polite. Sam went into the pocket next without protest and chuckled at Dean's ticked off expression.

“You'll get to play with her later.” Sam pat his back in consolation as they felt Cas walk around to the driver's side again. Stumbling briefly, they were just starting to get used to the heavy footfalls when the ground suddenly dropped out from under their feet.

Cas sat down behind the wheel again, hearing minor cursing coming from below but since nothing followed up afterwards, he figured they were probably just overtired and cranky. He turned on the radio and then spun the dial to keep it just above a murmur for the tiny ears.

Dean found himself humming along to the Meatloaf song that was playing beyond their fabric wall. Grateful that Cas turned the volume down after getting an earful of deafening sounds. Too loud and echoing weirdly in their space to make it out clearly. Now it was like someone playing music at two opposite ends of a wide field. Stereo surround even more noticeable now coming from the wide spread speakers.

Castiel quietly drove them back towards the motel, thumbs tapping along the steering wheel along with the music. Studying the street names and working from Jody's text message. Yawning into his hand, the angel hoped that the women wouldn't keep them from a soft bed for too long. It had been a long draining day for all of them.

Sam was already planning out what to say to expedite the future re-meet and greet. Slouching into his corner while Dean leaned against the other with his arms tightly folded in front of him. Wiggling a little to get comfortable, pressing his side against the warm wall of Cas's chest. The rumbling of the Impala was like their own lullaby so it helped them settle and relax.

That position looked comfortable so Sam did too, and sighed into the steady thrum of the heart beat. A grin playing on his lips as Dean sunk into the warmth Cas provided, mimicking his old position directly over Cas's heart when they were inside the vessel. Sam didn't want to consider the new alternative to getting inside Cas's vessel again. Down the hatch... Sam shivered at the thought as he gazed up involuntarily at the jaw above. No way would that ever happen if the brothers had something to say about it. So Sam pushed the thought aside and spent the rest of the short trip resting his eyes and feeling the huge heart thump away beside him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is from a Meatloaf song that my cousin and I sang often ;) I still remember the first time we heard it and really listened to the lyrics at that bar, looking at each other and laughing our heads off at the clever tune.


	15. Not a Light Sleeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jody get their first glimpse of what's happened

Chapter Fifteen:

Not a Light Sleeper

 

 

“No, Claire, the minibar is off limits.” Jody sighed in exasperation.

“I just wanted a pop.” Claire flopped down onto one of the two queen beds.

“It's more expensive then just going to the machine in the office.” Jody replied without looking up from her phone. She was texting Castiel the room number and how to find it. This motel was shaped differently then most. Probably built in an era that loved unnecessary corners and angles. Each unit either jut out or was pushed back into the main building and overhead must look like a cubist snake with a dozen 45 degree angle bends along the way in random places. It was an eyesore, but, the only motel in town.

Jody opted for one of the rooms in the rear of the building from past experiences with the Winchester's desire for privacy. She turned on the TV to drown out her kid's cranky attitude. Claire was just ticked that she wasn't allowed to watch the brothers come back from the dead. Jody herself felt a little left out, but, would not have Claire stay anywhere near that homicidal demon. And if she wasn't watching the teen, then there was nothing stopping her from getting into trouble. Claire was smart, brave, but sometimes jumped into danger without considering all of the outcomes first.

Claire grabbed the remote to find a decent movie as they waited. Nothing much was on, and before she could find something on a pay-per-view channel, Jody caught her mid-way and put the kibosh on that. Neither one of them could stop fidgeting. Jody was worried and nervous about what was going on out there. What Sam and Dean are going to be like now. She knew they'd died on a hunt, and was unsure if they would carry any of the wounds or show up healed but in bloody clothes. Her stomach twisted when her mind raced with all of the possible ways they died. They weren't very detailed with anything gory. Probably thinking that the less she knew the better, but she'd seen some truly terrible things happen to people that she loved and her imagination was worse then anything that had actually happened. Really, it would be better to know then not, in her mind.

Claire's leg bounced as she flipped through the regular cable channels and landed on some documentary about building boats in the middle ages. Mildly entertaining. Nothing violent or disturbing. Just, some old guys enthusiastically explaining how the people at the time built small boats. She was looking for background noise more then anything else. Something to help calm the mood since it looked like Jody was even more stressed out then she was.

“Jody, it's... they're gonna be alright.” Claire said gently, pushing a lock of braided hair behind her ear. Talking about this kind of stuff always felt odd. Like, she should know exactly what to say like in some sappy movie. Jody turned to her and smiled warmly and that gave her proof that it was the right thing to say in any case. Claire blushed slightly and turned back to the TV. Claire shrugged a shoulder and said to no one in particular, “It's not like this is anything new for them. Castiel said that Dean had died over a hundred times before, Sam's probably up to a dozen. If anyone can do it, they can.” And shrugged again, glancing briefly at Jody. “Just stating facts.”

Jody's smile grew and she nodded a few times, wiping off her face and sitting on the other bed. She hadn't witnessed any of their previous deaths, but trusted them when they said it had happened. She believed nearly everything they told her, because although they may hide their own current health, they felt close enough to her to tell her about past events. Usually in a clinical, fact stating kind of way, as if she would crumble if they went into detail. Admittedly, she did feel love and concern enough to warrant the need somewhat... She still hated it whenever they were suffering and refused to get her involved. She had to frequently bully it out of them with her 'mom' voice. Dean seemed to respond to it better then Sam, which made sense in a sad way since it's Dean that remembers having a mom. Sam wasn't the kind of guy to ignore her concern, and sometimes gave in just as easily as his brother.

It was sometimes easy to forget that these gentle souls that care so much, had fought heaven and hell before. Survived each and more, and would come back from this just fine. Her hands still wrung together despite knowing that. “You're right.” she eventually responded to Claire.

Before either could say anything else, they heard the familiar rumble of the Impala approaching and both shot up from their seats, heading to the door. Jody was about to open it but stilled, holding Claire back who was also ready to burst out of it. “Wait a minute.” Jody whispered and peered through the peep hole. “We need to be sure it's them and not someone else. I don't trust Crowley.” Claire sobered up at that notion, stance becoming rigid and ready to fight. Jody reached a finger out towards her pistol that was on the table and Claire went to fetch it for her while Jody kept watch. The teen tucked it in her waiting hand while she went for her own long silver knife. Holding it up defensively towards the door.

The car's engine cut off just outside and Jody strained her eyes to see inside. It was pitch black out and the lights in the parking lot were not as bright back here as they should have been. Jody could only see one figure in the car and so she cocked the hammer back on her gun. Turning towards Claire to back up a few steps. Thankfully, she listened to the silent direction and was ready to attack when given the signal. Heart racing at the anticipation.

Jody lowered her gun when she saw who it was getting out of the Impala. “It's Castiel.” She murmured but still held onto her gun. Double checking the salt line at the door, Claire caught on and checked the window's line too. “He's alone. I don't see the boys... I also don't see their glowing souls either.”

“They're probably inside his vessel.” Claire said and relaxed her posture. Disapointed that the thing they did, didn't work. She peeked out of the curtains to see the angel start heading for the door before apparently remembering something in the trunk. He unlocked and opened it up and then oddly enough, started mouthing words to no one. If the souls were inside, he wouldn't have to speak out loud. Castiel stood there for a few seconds and mouthed more words before grabbing something from the trunk and slamming it shut and mouthing more words. Looking _sheepish_ of all things.

Jody noticed that too but Castiel was still acting more or less normal to her so she opened the door for him when he approached. The angel startled at the sudden movement but then smiled tiredly at the sheriff.

“Jody.” He greeted with a softer version of his normal gravel rough voice, and stepped over the salt line still in place. “Claire.” He addressed next and placed the bag he carried onto the nearest bed.

Jody shut the door behind him when it was apparent that there was no one else coming in. Her anxiety shooting skyward. “What happened?” She asked, trying hard not to sound accusingly or too panicked.

Castiel sat heavily on the bed next to his bag and folded his hands in his lap, eyes downward. “Crowley upheld his end of the deal.”

Jody raised a skeptical brow. “And? Wasn't that a good thing?”

“Yes and no.” Castiel looked up between the two ladies. A mix of frustration and guilt. “Can you keep your voices down? I will explain why in a minute.” Castiel's earnest look had them both silently agreeing to the request so he continued. “It didn't go exactly to plan. I believe him when he said he gave it his best shot. However, it wasn't exactly... _enough_.”

Claire's fingers fidgeted around her knife and it's sheath. “What happened to them?”

Castiel's eyes looked sorrowful, but that could also be simple exhaustion. It was always hard to get a clear read on him. “They were returned to physical bodies but they were not exactly to scale. I hypothesized that Crowley had condensed the energy of their souls down into their old human-like bodies, suspended by a finite amount of multiplied DNA. Crowley retrieved samples of their DNA from the bunker in the form of a few strands of hair. It is my assumption that he misplaced a decimal point when doing the reconstructive math and so they are currently a fraction of their former sizes.” Castiel felt like he wasn't explaining it in a satisfactory manor due to the fact that he himself barely understood what went wrong with the spell. It seemed sound enough, and they did get a form of their bodies back, but the size discrepancy was still a mystery.

“A fraction?” Jody asked, leaning up against the table. “What does that even mean? So they aren't full sized?”

“Correct.”

“And they are where, exactly?”

“In my pocket.” Castiel replied simply without moving a muscle.

“Your pocket.”

“Yes.”

A pause of silence filled the room for a few moments that would have been absolute if it weren't for a few orchestrations playing on the television as it showed a 3D model of a schooner being disassembled.

Castiel noticed the TV program and commented, “That's wrong.”

Jody realized she was gaping and snapped her mouth shut. “What do you mean, your pocket?”

“Like a pocket of space?” Claire's curiosity peaked, “I know you operate on multiple wavelengths and there are pockets of realities all around. They're in one of them?”

Castiel felt a swell of pride that she remembered and learned about the aspects of angel's abilities and realities. Likely due to her being his vessel for a short time. They never talked about it, so Castiel didn't know how much she retained, or wanted to relive. He politely never brought it up as that would only increase the awkwardness they sometimes had around each other.

However intuitive and creative as she was, she was simply assuming something more complicated then current realities. “No, not a pocket of space, a regular pocket as in _this_ pocket.” He looked down and noticed that the brothers were still getting used to the new presences around them. He agreed to wait for them to give him some kind of signal when they felt ready to come out and be seen.

Cas cleared his throat and looked back at the women. “They are uhm... sensitive to, uh,” He floundered for a way to explain everything without it making them sound just as helpless and fragile as they currently were. He didn't want to hurt their pride anymore then necessary. He had to be sensitive himself to their needs. Castiel started over. “The spell left them at a size that is roughly one nineteenth of their original forms. They're basically human, but in miniature. Everything is heightened to their senses and therefore overwhelming at times. I'm sure they'd appreciate a bit of space while we sort this new development out.” He felt a few taps on his chest from one of them, internally proud of himself for saying it right.

“Wait. They're what now? _Tiny_?” Jody's face scrunched up. Eyes going to the pocket and trying to imagine what they look like in there. “So the spell or whatever it was worked, but not all the way.”

“Correct.” Castiel said before a yawn escaped him. “My apologies. I have been using my grace to try and feel out any negative influences on their form since the spell. Trying to see if the demon added anything malicious into the spellwork that was set to activate later. I could not find anything as of yet. It's all a bit draining.” He admitted belatedly around another half yawn.

Movement came from his pocket and Dean's outraged voice filtered up from within. Just barely loud enough to hear over the twin gasps at the sudden movement and the babbling TV. “You didn't tell us that!”

Castiel looked down, ignoring for the moment the stunned expressions in the ladies faces. “I told you it is my duty to protect you. I needed to know if Crowley had placed any side spell on your souls or your new forms. I'm nearly complete.” Castiel stifled the majority of the next yawn. Hand coming up to cover his mouth. His growing exhaustion threatening to make him fall over asleep before he's done. Castiel had hoped the search would have been done by the time they'd arrived but there was so much to sift through. So many possible ways Crowley could have messed with them, that new ideas and potential tricks kept popping up in his mind for him to check and double-check. And that was just on the physical level, there were countless more on other levels he would have to study later. His grace left him feeling drained, but he persevered. Making sure they were ok on this level was top priority. Especially when it was the one humans dealt with the most. Cas wanted them to rest easy. His own discomfort is temporary.

“Knock it off!” Dean shouted and kicked at the chest behind him, jarring his attention back to the conversation going on. “If it's wearing you out, stop doing it!”

Sam's voice filtered up next, “Gotta agree with Dean on this one. We feel fine. Crowley may be a dick, but what good would it do him to back stab us like that?”

“Crowley knows better then anyone about evil sonsofbitches that go up against Team Free Will. Hell, he's the only one left of our enemies, even if he's not currently a big bad. So he knows first hand what we're capable of, even vouched for us a few times. Little or not, I would gank that son of a bitch if he tried anything.” Dean folded his arms and leaned against the outer edge of the pocket to get an inch more space to better view Castiel's face above them. “We will go all David and Goliath on his ass.”

Sam said, “Damn straight.”

Jody and Claire were both stunned at the soft voices filtering up from Castiel's pocket and the reality of the situation started to crash in on them.

Sam seemed to feel the eyes of their audience and turned around to face the outer edge of the pocket, reaching up and grabbing it in both hands, pulling himself up enough to hook his elbows over to keep himself from falling back down. Staring out at the motel room and his friends turned giant on the other side, sitting on the other bed. Stunned and staring.

Dean wasn't about to seem scared and hiding so he too jumped and peered out at the room beyond. It was a typical motel room but blown way out of proportion to them. He was gaping just as much as Jody and Claire. He was glad he at least had gotten a little used to Cas's size first, because being confronted with this would have been just that much more intimidating without that support behind him. In this case, literally.

“Damn.” Dean whispered and noticed Sam nod along with that assessment.

Dean cleared his throat and tried to project his voice across the vast distance between the angel and giant humans. “Hey guys!”

Claire gave a shy slow wave while Jody leaned forward in her seat. Cautiously getting to her feet and coming closer without standing up fully. As if approaching a scared wild animal. She glanced up to see that Castiel was giving her permission to come closer with a kind smile and Dean would have bristled at the thought that they were his pets or some shit. But, as the angel proclaimed a few times, he was their protector. Jody was probably nervous. Trying to imagine what was acceptable behavior around tiny people. She knelt down in front of Castiel who stayed still. Bringing her eyes about level with the Winchesters.

“Hey, boys.” she whispered back. Tears starting to brim. “I'm glad you're alive again.” Her smile growing at seeing them healthy and more or less normal.

Dean bobbled his head and turned to see Sam smile sheepishly. “Well... see, that's kinda, not really what happened.” He reluctantly said, waiting for Dean to join in but his older brother bumped his side to continue. Sam huffed, irritated at him and kicked back before answering. “We're both uh, we're both still dead. We can't be brought back to life but this is like the next best thing. As far as we can tell, it's almost as if we are alive, but, we aren't. We can still sense and feel the same, but like, it's an echo of our past life.”

Dean pipped up, “Which is cool 'cause we get all the benefits of being alive without having to worry about dying. I mean sure, we're not quite invincible, but, we wont die of starvation or thirst or disease or anything like that. We just have to deal with this minor BS.” Dean waved his hand up and down to indicate their current sizes.

“Emphasis on the word, 'minor'.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Point is, is that we're fine, for now.” He grinned over at Jody. She kept her movements slow and easy and they could tell Claire wanted a closer look as well. Dean turned to look up at Cas who actually had his eyes closed and head bobbed once as if he was willing himself to stay awake. “Ya hear that Cas?! We're fine!” He shouted up and Castiel jolted upright too abruptly. They lost their grip of the pocket rim and fell back inside.

“Hmm? Yes?” Castiel sniffed awake and looked around for any sudden danger.

“Dammit Cas!” Dean's voice muffled out. They had to get untangled yet again and hoist themselves back up to be seen. “Put us down before you fall down. I'm pretty sure Jody's got a handle on the situation now. You need to sleep.”

“He's right, Cas.” Sam said next and turned his head to see Jody better. “If you don't mind?” He made an awkward hand gesture that she thankfully understood and reached her right hand forward. Her fingers more nimble and delicate then the angel's. Jody carefully held her hand palm side down as if Cas was invited to kiss the backside of it which had the angel cocking his head to the side and squinting. Half puckering his lips before he understood that she was aiming for. Angling her fingers as a scoop to retrieve them easier since they were both hanging onto the front edge. She moved very slowly and reached inside, curling the ends of the fingers while her other hand came up outside of the pocket just in case. The brothers had to lean back far enough to allow her to cup them both in the one hand. Sitting on the tips before being rolled onto their backs onto the inside of the first knuckles. Heads bumping into the top of her palm as she scooped them up and out. Her other hand coming up swiftly to encase them fully inside her hands.

Dean mumbled to Sam quiet enough so she wouldn't hear, “I will never get used to this.”

“Me either.” Sam muttered back as they felt the warmth of Cas's grace fade and the cool air of the room rush by the hands. Sam pat Dean's leg as his brother started breathing a bit faster at the heights seen from between the fingers. “Almost there.” He said to fill in the empty space. Not actually knowing what Jody had planned at all but needing to say something.

Jody froze in mid stride to the table. Unsure if that's where she wanted to put them after all. She felt the tiny hands grasp her fingers to balance themselves again at the sudden stop. The gravity of the situation coming down on her. She held two lives inside her hands. Just because they weren't alive alive, doesn't make the fact any less amazing and daunting. Jody stammered as she addressed them directly, hoping that they'd let her know where they wanted to go and weren't too scared to speak up. Knowing that if she were in their minuscule shoes, she'd be having a non-stop panic attack. “So uh, where did you boys want me to drop you off?”

Claire reached out one of the motel pillows she'd been clutching in her lap, “On the pillow!”

Jody angled her head for Claire to put it in the center of the bed and brought the brothers over to it, lowering her hand gently down and letting go. Sam and Dean scooted to the edge and tried to step down onto the off white surface and their feet sunk in immediately. Making both trip up and land in an awkward heap.

“Damn it Sam, buy a girl dinner first!” Dean complained as he rolled away and sat up on the soft bouncy surface.

Sam grumbled something under his breath but got some space of his own. Looking up to thank Jody but being suddenly aware that Claire was also staring down at them. A towering form that made the bed sink down slightly.

“Oh my God, you two are just too cute!” Claire said and reached forward with an index finger to poke at Dean who unsuccessfully tried to scramble away from the massive hand. Claire pinned him gently down into the pillow with just the end of her finger and wiggled it on his stomach like tickling a puppy.

Jody was just as startled by Claire's knee jerk reaction to touch the tiny things, and grabbed her wrist to pull it up and away. “Claire!” she reprimanded.

“What?” she retorted. “It's not like I was hurting him.”

“That's not the point!” Jody raised her voice and winced when Sam and Dean clutched at their ears. She shook her head in slight frustration and took a breath. “I know they look adorable and cute but they're still people. _Respect_.”

Sam and Dean looked between the giants who were having a fight overhead and grew a little worried what would come of it. Backing up a little on the pillow to gain some space. Thankfully, Claire seemed to catch herself and turned her head away.

“Fine.” She huffed and her hands came up to chop at the air in front of her. Needing to get her side out, “I just don't understand what the big deal is. Dean teased me all the time.” She looked back down at the brothers. “Nothing has changed. We're still family.” She almost made it sound like a protest for her unfair treatment and it made the brothers pause. Thinking over the brief interaction objectively. Claire wasn't treating them like pets or toys, she was treating them like the same as they'd always had. Like family. Dean had to admit that if it was Claire that was recently pocket sized, he'd probably have the urge to poke as well. And it hadn't hurt one bit. A bit humiliating but nothing he wasn't already over, knowing now that it wasn't done to demean in a heartless way. It was just a few seconds of playfulness.

Dean dusted his shirt off and stood shakily on the surface of the pillow, legs splayed wide to accomplish that feat. “Just you wait short stop, this prank war has only just begun.” And folded his arms over his chest.

That alleviated some of the tension in the air and had Claire smiling brightly. “Bring it on, munchkin.”

Jody rolled her eyes at the banter but was grateful her kid wasn't going to cause too great of mischief. “Listen to them, kid.” Jody poked Claire in the chest. “They're still older then you.”

Claire waved her hand in the air and leaned back over the pillow. “So where you wanna sleep? Because it looks like Castiel called dibs on the other bed.” She pointed over and they all looked to see the angel laying sprawled out on top of the sheets, fast asleep.

Jody stood and tugged the blankets out from under the angel and half covered him up, moving to his feet to take off his shoes and shove them up onto the bed a bit more so they weren't hanging off. All the while Sam and Dean marveled at the sight of one titan nearly effortlessly move another around. Claire stood up too to help out and together they had Cas pulled up onto the bed better before returning to the other one.

Standing next to the bed, the brothers had to crane their heads all the way back to look them in the eyes. Jody reached for their pillow and when she gripped the edges, Dean lost his balance yet again and fell onto his back which didn't hurt at all thanks to the softness of the pillow, and Jody carried them over to Castiel's other side. Pausing before setting it down on top of the bed.

“He doesn't roll in his sleep does he?”

Sam spoke up. “He rarely sleeps.” Turning to Dean.

“No, he's a log. Trust me.” He refused to answer how he knows Cas's sleeping habits as the pillow was set down far enough from the edge of the bed and the angel's head.

“You need a blanket too.” Jody said more or less to herself and looked around the room for ideas. Claire had one and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a washcloth.

“Sorry, no, that looks like it'd be too rough for them.” Jody went to the bag Castiel brought in and pulled out a clean t-shirt, rubbing it between her fingers and selecting a different one with finer thread count. “This one.” She unfolded it so it wouldn't be too heavy for their tiny bodies and laid it out next to them. Almost tucking them in but catching herself. They were grown men, they can tuck themselves in, despite how fragile they look to her now. She accepted a couple of folded tissues from Claire who had fashioned them into tiny pillows and instead of handing them directly to the brothers, she set them close by. Her fingers were far longer and as wide as their whole bodies and she felt weird about getting in their personal space too much.

“Thanks guys.” Sam called up and lifted up the makeshift pillow in the air towards Claire. It would need a few minor adjustments but they'd had far worse growing up.

Jody left them to it and took her own bag into the bathroom. Turning off the overhead light so it wasn't so bright in the room. Claire turned the channel to something else and settled on a Harry Potter marathon. Glancing over Castiel's body towards the pillow more often then the movie. She could just about see one of the tiny men sitting upright with part of the shirt bunched up behind them while the other was rolling to his left and right side, trying to get comfortable. Claire was pretty sure it was Dean watching along with her and leaned back into the headrest behind her. Turning the volume down a few more bars so that Sam could sleep.

Jody came out in a two piece nightgown and got under the covers on her side quickly as Claire vacated her spot to get changed for bed as well. The night had been very long and the rest would do them all good.

“Night, Boys.” she said, punching her pillow to get it into shape. She heard something coming from their direction and assumed it was just them saying goodnight back. Too far and too quiet to tell what it was exactly, but it didn't sound distressed. A thought hit her that if the did need something, they wouldn't be able to wake up Castiel if he really is that hard of a sleeper.

Claire came out of the bathroom next and before she got into her side Jody asked, “Can you put your phone on vibrate and give it to them?” She sat upright and turned to face the brothers. “So you can call mine if you need anything. And if her phone rings, it wont make you deaf.”

Claire got it set up and made sure there was nothing incriminating on her phone before putting it on the bed next to the pillow. “The unlock code is, OKGO.” She said and then went to grab something from her bag, coming back to them, she placed an unwrapped granola bar next to it without a word.

“Thanks.” Sam said and Dean gave a double thumbs up.

“Night. I'm glad you're both back.” She smiled warmly down at them. She made sure the front door was still locked along with the windows and that the salt lines were still unbroken. Jody beamed at that, and settled back under the covers. Claire liked to sleep with just her own blanket from the jeep, surrounded by the familiar scents and texture. Realizing that that was probably helping out the brothers in dealing with all this too. The t-shirt blanket doing the same job as her own. She set the TV to turn off after a couple hours and drifted off to the sounds of the movie playing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay. Work is kicking my ass, I come home exhausted every day - but- I like working there so I'm not really complaining. I just don't have the energy to type!


	16. Nightlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family hunkers down for the night. The brothers pov

Chapter Sixteen:

Nightlight

 

 

Watching Jody disappear into the bathroom to finish up her nightly routine gave them some kind of reprieve from those worried mom-eyes she was sending them since they walked in the door. Both brothers could tell she was seconds from wrapping them up in bubble wrap until judgment day. Which for them, was 7 years ago or next week. Who knows when the next apocalypse will pop up. For them, it will have to wait till they get better bodies to fight it in. Because there was no way in _hell_ they were fighting anything at the sizes they were at now. Even fighting a cold might be tricky, 'cause _damn_ was it always this chilly in this motel room?

Sam laid on his left side, then right, trying to find a comfortable place to sleep 'cause although the pillow they were both laying on may look all fluffy to human senses, they could feel every single clump of stuffing underneath the pillowcase. It wasn't the worst thing in the world to try and sleep on, but it was noticeably lumpy. Their new weights not enough to smush the clumps into submission. So Sam flopped onto his back and sighed while staring up at the pop-corned ceiling far far above. Thankful that Jody had turned off the overhead light already since it was so bright it rivaled the sun. However, with it off, the room felt colder then before.

The t-shirt turned blanket was pulled over more fully with Dean's help and they made quick work turning it into decent bedding underneath them as well. Turns out Dean was having some trouble finding a comfortable spot too. The pillow itself was larger then most hotel rooms in their entirety, so it wasn't as weird sleeping on technically the same bed. Dean bunched up a sleeve behind his tissue pillow that Claire had made, and it formed a nice backrest for him as they both watched the giant teenager flip channels on the enormous TV across the room. Looking for all the world like a theater screen, but not really, since generally speaking, movies on the big screen didn't have as many infomercials flipping by at breakneck speeds.

Everything was blown way out of proportion and Sam was almost as grateful as Dean for not being asked to do much so far. Since arriving, they had just exited Cas's pocket and were put on this pillow. Then the pillow was moved to Cas's bed. They didn't even have to walk anywhere or climb anything. The idea that they wouldn't ever have to do either again was very unnerving. Carried around all the time like some kind of invalid pocket pet that's too pampered and spoiled to move. At the moment, they were just too tired, but, Sam made up a plan to exercise in the morning before anyone wakes up. Like he usually did when it was just him and Dean, letting his brother sleep in for that last hour in peace. Dean was an even lighter sleeper the closer it came to mornings, despite his unwillingness to actually get out of bed on time. Not quite awake or asleep, drifting in that dozing limbo while Sam went about his morning routines around the room. Sam eventually noticed that Dean slept longer and deeper if he wasn't around in the morning, so he'd take that time for some tease free exercising outside of the room. A brisk jog around the town was his usual go to activity. It helped more often then not in establishing where stores were and the general feel of whatever small town they found themselves in. After lifetimes spent going from one to the other, it was nice to imagine life moving at an easier pace in places like these. The jogs never lasted long enough, and he would return with enough time to catch a shower and shave before Dean rolls out of bed.

If weather didn't want to cooperate, Sam often did push-ups while in the laundry room waiting for their clothes to finish washing and drying. Doing his part since it was Dean doing the lion's share of driving every day.

Of course, neither would have to drive anymore. A fact that annoyed him and straight up pissed off Dean to no end. Clothes too will quickly become an issue they'll have to deal with since it's not like Crowley left them with a chance to get replacement ones. They'll just have to treat these clothes with the utmost care if they want them to last.

Claire had settled on a Harry Potter movie and Dean was secretly really into it, so Sam decided not to voice his concerns at the moment. Plenty of time for the details of their new situation to sink in in the morning after a good nights rest. Sam was half asleep when Jody exited the bathroom in her night clothes and Claire took her turn in there. He realized that he hadn't had to use the bathroom at all since coming back, and that made sense, but it still felt odd to not have to go. Sam wondered if they did eat anything, would it have a taste and would their current bodies even be able to process it? He didn't feel hungry at all and Dean hadn't mentioned it either. Maybe forgetting to ask about dinner since Castiel hadn't stopped anywhere for food. Cas should eat though, especially if he's using up so much grace to be that conked out.

Jody settled into the other bed after peeking over Castiel's sleeping form to see them better. Her voice, though quieter then they knew it was normally for a person, was still loud to their ears. The TV was also kinda loud, but they were both used to falling asleep in noisy places if there was no other option. “Night boys.” Jody's smile was clear in the tone. However, it was the violent punching of her own pillow that reminded them of her immense power. She was beating it into a more desirable thickness, and Dean looked down at their own bed. Imagining right alongside Sam just how much strength it would take them both to move even the corner of their pillow into a different shape.

“That's not intimidating as hell.” Dean said as they saw Jody push her pillow around before settling.

“We'll just have to stay on her good side.” Sam suggested and mimicked the move on his own folded tissue pillow Claire had made. It resembled a folded paper football they used to make in school to pass notes back and forth. Just the right size for their needs and soft enough to not leave marks on their faces overnight. The sounds the tissues made were different then if their small pillows were made out of regular fabric, but beggers and choosers...

Dean shouted back, “Night Jody!” but neither heard a response back from his call, so it was unclear if she even heard him from that massive distance. Dean shrugged and settled back into his sleeve backrest to watch the movie.

Claire came out of the bathroom in her own sleep clothes and Dean smirked at the Grumpy Cat nightshirt and matching pajama pants. “Oh that's precious.” He chuckled quietly. “Wait till Cas see's that when he wakes up.”

Sam just grunted at him.

Castiel was half sprawled out on the bed in front of Sam. An arm taller then either of them laid over the covers the girls had used to half wrap him up in. The pillow they were on was higher then the arm and so Sam was able to see just beyond it to the chest that rose and fell. If he was really paying attention, he could feel the huge body moving their pillow-bed in a slight rocking motion. It wasn't enough to keep them from sleeping, but it was another thing to really push home how small they were. When someone's soft breathing was swaying their bed side to side, it was amazing that it would be noticeable at all.

Sam considered toeing off his shoes but thought better of it at the idea that they'd be lost in the covers, or flung off to God knows where when the t-shirt's removed and never found again. Their shoes would be no bigger then individual kernels of corn to the giant's perspectives. It wasn't worth the risk loosing anything irreplaceable.

Sam wasn't really paying attention to what Jody asked of Claire when she came out of the bathroom so when the teen strode over to their side of the bed and was messing with her phone with a slight scowl, it came with a healthy dose of confusion. He assumed Claire was taking a picture of them since the phone was more or less aimed down in their direction, but Claire just turned it around in time to show off the keypad lit up with three letters before it went right to black again.

“The unlock code is OKGO.” Claire said and bent over slightly to place the phone next to their pillow-bed. The size and weight of just that phone rivaled both brothers combined and Sam had some doubts that they'd be able to maneuver the thing at all. At least with it being a touch screen, they had a chance... but no guarantees that it would work for them. They didn't need to use it at the moment but the consideration was very welcomed.

Claire appeared to just think of something and went back to her own bag across the room. Half hidden from view beyond Cas's prone form. She returned bearing an unwrapped granola bar, setting the monolith down next to the raft sized phone and retreated once more from their personal space. Dean leaned over to the side to see what kind it was and wiggled a little in his seat which told Sam it had chocolate chips in it and not just oats and nuts. Something for everybody.

“Thanks.” Sam spoke up, hoping he was loud enough to be heard by the teen that towered over their bed by dozens of feet.

“Night. I'm glad you're both back.” She smiled warmly down at them and nodded before the ground started shaking again with her soft footfalls as she went to the door and windows. Sam sat up a little to see what she was doing and figured it out when her hands brushed up against the window sill. White granules falling here and there as she made sure the lines were unbroken. A glance across the room showed that Jody was beaming at the precautions Claire tended to without being prompted.

Dean settled back into his fabric backrest when his attention returned to the TV. The volume was turned down a bit and he could see the timer being set for two hours. Wondering to himself if he'll still be awake after that. If the events of today would keep him up or be enough to wear him out for the entire night.

After half an hour, Dean heard the soft telltale snore coming from the ladies bed and made a bet with himself that it was Jody doing it. Trying to judge the distance and size of the lungs involved past the sounds of the movie. Sam was out for the night. Soon as Claire settled, the mini-Sasquatch was gone. Which left Dean by himself as the last man standing. He gazed around the room and allowed himself to take in the details that he could see without having to get up and out of his comfy spot. The t-shirt they were using was one of his own, and he could tell from this proximity that he probably should have bought a new one ages ago.

This one had holes forming along tiny folds, and had sweat stains along the neck hole seam, that were no-where near apparent when he was his rightful size and still kicking, but thankfully Sam either didn't notice or care. It smelled clean enough at least... so he hoped Sam would stay indifferent to it's disheveled state. The individual threads were very noticeable now. Each one at least a centimeter thick to him. How could people live their whole lives without looking at how shirts were woven together, sewn together?

Dean shook his head at that. Bigger issues were always at hand then learning about how clothes were made. He supposed some people would care more about it then others. A fleeting memory of Crowley being a tailor came to mind and he just made the connection that that was probably why the King of Hell was so outraged when the Leviathans ate his tailor a few years back.

The notion that he respected the trade even after dying, going to hell, and becoming a crossroads demon before raising through the ranks and taking the helm of hell itself, and still give a shit about tailoring... it was another side of Crowley Dean hadn't considered before. Thinking of the fact that Crowley, king of rot, cared about something so mundane to most people. It humanized him. Dean did a full body shudder at the idea that the demon could be sympathized with. After all, the bastard did botch up their chances of having normal bodies with that spell earlier. They might have been able to come up with something better if they hadn't been stuck with these results.

Dean slouched into the sleeve backrest and folded his arms over his chest. The movie coming to its climax across the room. He took and released a breath and pulled the cloth up over his chest to keep warm. Still unsure if it was like Sam was saying, a memory of what they should be feeling, like reliving old habits, or if he was actually cold. Didn't matter, it made him feel comfortable to snuggle down into its protective layer of fabric against the enormity of the room above. Snickering to himself that kids would hide under the covers to avoid monsters that go bump in the night. He wasn't hiding. But he was feeling a little vulnerable. God he wished he was asleep right now.

Dean let Sam rest as he absently watch the movie end and credits roll. Trying to see if he could see a clock anywhere but unable to see much of anything beyond the passed-out angel. As if Cas heard his thoughts, the angel in question grumbled into his rumpled shoulder and sighed heavily in his sleep. Dean stilled. Unwilling to wake him up by moving or even breathing too loudly. Cas turned his head to his left side, towards the brothers, and inhaled through his nose, held it and let it out again in a whoosh. Dean felt it from where he slouched and stayed stone still.

Cas's right eye blinked slightly open and gazed blindly out through the barely open lids. The eye blinked a little more widely before the pupil focused in on the pillow a foot away at his side, and then darted up to Dean staring right back at him. Cas frowned a little and looked to see Sam sleeping soundly. The angel kept himself as still as possible right along with Dean as he opened his other eye too to help see the figure more clearly and angled his head just enough to mouth a few words at Dean.

It took a moment for Dean to parse what was being 'said'.

He answered in a barely there whisper, thankful that Cas seemed to be able to hear him just fine.

“I'm fine, Cas. Go back to sleep.” Sam curled up a little more on his side which had both of them freezing yet again, waiting for the long haired hunter to settle again, which he did soon after.

Cas focused back on Dean. A minor flick of his eyes to go from one brother to the other. Worry etched clearly in his eyes and what Dean could see of the rest of his facial expressions.

Dean startled when he felt a warmth envelope him from out of nowhere and realized that it was Cas's grace. So subtle he didn't really notice it earlier when everything was happening, until it had dissipated with the angel falling asleep. Dean scowled a little at Cas. Speaking up in a hoarse whisper to get his renewed demands across. “Stop creeping on us and go to sleep. We're fine. We're _all_ fine.”

Cas kept Dean and Sam covered in the warm grace for a few moments more before he blinked slower at Dean. Blue eyes going in and out of focus. A twitch of his lip that showed he was satisfied with the brief check-up over the brothers and the room at large. Drifting gradually back to sleep with a peaceful sigh.

Dean smiled warmly at him, a tiny hand indicating that Cas should just shut his eyes and leave it be till morning. When the grace lifted up and away again, Dean relaxed. Glad for the slight boost in warm temperature that made his bed just that much more desirable to snuggle down in. as if the pillow and shirt had just come out of the dryer, warmed inside and out.

Dean took his own advice and unfolded his arms, relaxing his muscles, and let himself drift off to sleep too. With a room full of hunters of all shapes and sizes, they were pretty safe for the night. Dean had to remind himself that no one would come to harm them here. Crowley, bastard though he is, had likely already made an example of the demon bitch that stood in their way earlier when they were getting the Impala and truck back, and other demons would think twice to disobey their king any time soon. Because technically speaking, Sam and Dean would be at his beck and call several times in the future, and damaging anything that 'belongs' to the boss was a big no-no. It was a relief to know that they basically no longer had to worry about demons coming after them. With Cas around as an added layer of protection, they wouldn't _dare._

Now all they had to worry about was.... everything _else_ in this world... and the next.

Dean shook his head, shifting his tissue-pillow into a better position and ducking his head under the covers. Blocking the flickering light from the room. He was only vaguely aware when the TV finally turned itself off, and the only sounds now were the fading soft snores, and breaths of the giants that inhabited the room. Finding that falling asleep was easier now that he's got a solid body that wont fall right through the bed. Things could be worse.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up sometime tomorrow as an apology for the long wait!  
> I lost my job and things are kinda bleh right now. not bad, but not great either. writing helps :) getting comments are even better! uwu


	17. Light Snacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning!   
> Sam and Dean do battle with a granola bar.

Chapter Seventeen:

Light Snacks

 

 

Jody woke sometime around 4 am. She'd had a nightmare about shapeless black monsters breaking into their motel room and going after Sam and Dean who were inexplicably turned into tiny mice. She wasn't able to warn them, scream or move at all. Her fists were clenched tight as her mouth was gaping wide in a silent scream. Nothing coming out but hoarse breaths. She watched as the shapeless beings solidified into a single large wraith bathed in black shrouds as a scythe was pulled from its flowing robes and lifted over the brother's bed. The mice huddled close to each other and shivered, knowing they wouldn't stand a chance.

Dead silence filled in the room save for their terrified squeaks. The long jagged curved blade was swiftly brought down, and just as it cut through the entire bed halfway, heading straight for the brothers, she woke up with a terrified gasp.

Sitting bolt upright and panting hard, sweat dripped from her brow. The room felt too hot and smothering. Her hands still gripping the blankets, Jody instantly shot her attention over to the other bed. Fully expecting to see the black shrouded figure collecting the reaped souls from the other bed.

Castiel hadn't moved much at all, and she suddenly remembered that he wasn't there a second ago. Neither was Claire at her side. It had been just her and the helpless brothers cowering from the wraith like Reaper. She struggled to calm herself down, repeating in her head that it was just a dream. A _terrifying_ dream, but harmless, not real. Not real. Her stomach twisted at the knowledge that Reapers were _indeed_ after the brothers, but, Cas assured her that they didn't know where they were. They'd lost their trail days ago. Reapers also didn't look like traditional movie monsters and she would have laughed at herself for coming up with that image for them, if she wasn't still tense and worried. The ghastly figure in her nightmare resembled the dementors from that Harry Potter movie that Claire was watching. She was lucky enough to never have met a real life Reaper, but knew from Sam, Dean, and Cas's descriptions, that they usually looked human. Trying to gently ease the newly dead humans into their afterlife.

Of course, the ones after Sam and Dean only want to throw them into the empty for disrupting the natural order so often, and on such a massive cosmic scale, and that little fact that Dean had killed Death, their boss. So they might change up their image for the Winchesters. Her nightmarish version of the Grim Reaper might turn out to be closer to the ones going after the brothers after all. Taking the opposite route to try and look even _more terrifying_ to them as their helpless souls are viciously ripped from existence.

Her heart started to pick up speed again. Her eyes squinted shut to help her focus. Jody's mind still raced at how much worse it could get. Soon realizing that her trembling was threatening to wake up Claire. Jody slipped out of the bed next to the wall and tip toed on over to get a good look at the others. Hating that she didn't even think about the sleeping arrangements last night. Sam and Dean, the most vulnerable and hated and hunted of them all, were closest to the door, and therefore nearest to danger should someone or some _thing_ break in.

Jody crept closer and relief swept over her when she saw that the brothers were sleeping peacefully. Castiel turned his head which made her jump back and run into the table behind her.

His gravely voice came out barely above a whisper. “Are you alright?”

She was about to speak normally but caught herself. Hand over her heart, feeling how fast it was beating at the jump scare. “Just – just checking on them.”

“I am sorry I didn't wake you from your nightmare.” Castiel sounded full of regret, “I did not wish to wake them if I moved. Or how you would react to being woken up.” he paused for a second to squint in the dark, “I've been told that humans can bring themselves out of nightmares just as fast as they come. Resolving the issues before waking naturally. I apologize for yours...” he let the end of the sentence hang, looking away in shame.

The sheriff nodded a few times, slowly calming down, tip toeing closer again as quiet as she could.

Castiel's voice was low and soft, “I woke 48 minutes ago, and have been shielding them from some distractions, but, it's not perfect. I can't block everything.” Castiel frowned and turned his head back to the side to watch how they might react to the new presence. “If I was... if I still had all of my grace, I could have just... touched their foreheads and gave them a deep restful sleep. Now, best I can do is limit distractions.” He looked to her again. “I can ease your transition into sleep by boosting your melatonin levels. It's not guaranteed sleep, but, it might help.”

Jody lifted her hands up to politely wave off his offer. “I'm good. I just wanted to check on them.”

“I'm sure they'd appreciate it.” He smiled at her and noted kindly, “I will watch over everyone, you should get some more rest.”

Jody huffed a quiet laugh. “You're one to talk, Cas.” The nickname coming easier to her the more she talked with the real life angel. Seeing him now, it was hard to think of him as the multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent that was roughly the size of the Chrysler building. But, hearing his true form versus his true nature described to her from several sources and countless stories, made her feel like she'd known him for years despite only meeting him a handful of times before this trip. Somehow, everyone's seemingly contrary observations were accurate for the angel. He was intimidating and gentle, extremely intelligent but also clueless on some human customs, snarky sometimes but careful with his words. And, during one of the times that he fought with the brothers that she heard about, he could be exceedingly dangerous and deadly, but now, appeared to only want peace and to protect. She found him confusing and refreshingly relatable at the same time.

Jody cleared her throat and knew that the angel had as rough of a life here on Earth as the rest of them and deserves to have someone care for him too. Knowing that the brothers sometimes show their compassion in more subtle ways then good old fashioned mother-henning. “Cas. You need to sleep too. I want you to promise me you'll at least try.” and stared him down in the dimly lit room. A nightlight in the bathroom and the red glow from the alarm clock illuminating the space just enough to see by.

Castiel shifted his arm around the pillow at his side more securely and gave a soft nod to her. Showing her the physical barrier he was forming around the slumbering brothers would hopefully convince her that he would be satisfied with that minimal level of protection. Humans were big on these kinds of displays of intent. Unable to see that his left wing had been folded protectively around them since his grace sensed their presence nearby hours ago. Even when he was asleep, his sparcely feathered wings and grace wanted to be close to the small souls, and he was grateful that his wings easily moved through physical objects so that he could keep them around Sam and Dean without anyone being the wiser. What little he had, was reserved for their care.

Castiel whispered to Jody, “Goodnight.” at the growing irritation and mild anger coming from her, he realized how that could be seen as a dismissal and quickly amended, “I promise will get some more sleep.”

She nodded curtly and went to grab a water from the bathroom. That nightmare kept replaying in her head and she wanted to talk about it, but didn't want to keep Castiel up, or wake anyone for a silly dream. She climbed back into bed and had to shove Claire back over so the teen didn't take up even more leg room. The kid could _sprawl_.

Morning came eventually, with Sam waking first. He was always first to get up and usually went for a morning run but he just didn't feel like it at the moment. Staring up at the high ceiling, he slowly remembered the previous day's events and he groaned aloud. That's right, they're tiny. Turning his head to see the gigantic angel, Castiel, still laying on his back but at some time in the night, his left arm had crooked around their pillow-bed. Surrounding them from three sides with his huge vessel. Sam laid there on the warm pillow and pulled the t-shirt blanket up just a bit more, enjoying the warmth from both. Usually cheap motels like this one were too hot or cold but this one was perfect. He let his mind drift back into half sleep for about half an hour when he heard Dean stir next to him.

“Too damn bright.” Dean grumbled and flipped onto his stomach, covering up his head with part of the shirt.

Sam chuckled and finally sat up, surveying his surroundings from just an inch higher then before. Not really surprisingly, it didn't help. He lifted the blanket up and away and stared at his jeans and shoes for a moment. Contemplating how difficult it would be for them to get replacements now. He scooted closer to the bottom edge of the pillow, away from Cas's arm and side and carefully slid down onto the bedspread below. Looking up at the tall mound of pillow and only seeing the shirt draping down the rest of it. Getting back up would be a challenge but he was done with sleeping for the time being. He turned in place to take in the sea of rippled bedspread and Cas's trench coat peeking out of the folds in a few places. Sam walked around the pillow away from Cas and noticed the cell phone and granola bar.

He wasn't really hungry but sat next to it anyway. Staring at the long log of snack before reaching forward and tugging a corner chunk free. It put up a mighty fight due to the dried honey keeping it all together. His hands instantly sticky with the stuff. He stood and got some leverage as one freshly wiped off, yet still booted foot, went to hold the bulk of it firmly down, while his hands pulled and tugged a single oat free from the rest. Landing on his ass when it suddenly came free with long strings of sugar and honey still connecting it to the bar. He scowled at how much work that took but started in on the oat disk. The honey was nice but the single oat took a long time to chew through. It was like a flattened petrified pancake in size and flavor so he opted for a sunflower seed next that wasn't attached as well. Nibbling on its sweet and nutty flavor, he sat down again. Leaning against the pillow and taking in the sounds and limited sights. His view consisting of the curtained window, the door outside, a painting of some cheap cubist art that didn't match anything there, and half of the TV now that Cas's legs and feet were blocking the other half from down here.

Dean slid down next to him and he wordlessly offered up the other half of his sunflower seed when Dean scoffed at his tastes. The older brother claimed one of the chocolate chips and since it was a softer substance, it gave way easier when Dean simply dug his fingers directly into the chocolate to scoop it out. They ate in peace, trying out the different bits of the bar and Dean created his own form of KitKat by combining the handful of sweet chocolate, and a crispy puff ball together. Smearing the chocolate all over it so it coated the crispy puff evenly before daintily chomping down on it. Sucking on his fingers just to annoy Sam who reluctantly had to do the same due to the sticky honey.

Eventually Dean got to plucking all of the chocolate bits that were readily available on the outskirts of the bar while Sam worked on prying a decent chunk of it from the main bulk to work on while he sat down. Finding and exploiting the granola bar's weak spots and cracks like someone breaking stones apart.

Even working together, they barely made a dent in the single bar by the time the others woke. The ladies taking turns in the bathroom again, while Castiel sat up and peered down at them like a looming statue of liberty.

Sam and Dean felt eyes on them and looked straight up at the bed-head and snickered. Dean wiped off his mouth of the sticky substance and called up, “Cas, man. I know you know what a comb is. There's one in my bag. Have Claire or Jody fix that for you.” waving a few chocolate coated fingers up his way.

Castiel ran his fingers through his hair a few times, locating the bag on the dresser before making sure the brothers were ok with being alone on the bed for a hot minute. They'd gone back to their breakfast as he turned away to get his feet on the ground and abruptly stood up. Sam and Dean crashed into each other when the bed bucked underneath them at the sudden loss of mass at the other end, and they sent twin glares at the angel's turned back. Freezing when he faced them again, like he'd take major offense to the looks he was getting. The brothers watched Cas put the duffel bag on the bed a foot away from their breakfast picnic, jostling them half as much now that they're braced for it. Rummaging though its contents and glancing over and down at Dean every few seconds with a constipated look on his face, Castiel was convinced Dean was mistaken about the comb.

“It's not in there?” Dean got to shaky feet on the twitching bed and sucked on his fingers to clean them. Sam came over as well, staring up at the once familiar looking bag that is now as large as an office building.

Claire came up behind Cas and handed over a mostly cleaned hairbrush. A few long blond hairs still tangled hopelessly around the base of the bristles. The sight of another giant suddenly appearing made Sam and Dean startle at how _fast_ it happened. Claire didn't notice their fearful looks at all, and walked around Cas towards the bed's window side to grab her phone, plucking it up from where it sat all night. She scrolled through the most recent texts and apps, and was clearly glad no one tried to make or receive any texts or calls. Her privacy still intact. She would give up her phone readily if they needed it in the future, but for now, she wanted to update Alex on what all happened.

Claire took her phone outside and it made Castiel nervous for a second. With how many things had happened recently, he felt the need to have everyone close until they were able to get back home again. He kept an ear out for trouble but not as tuned into what she was saying to retain her desire for privacy.

Jody came out of the bathroom with a rather large white towel wrapped around her head and Dean had to stifle a wry comment that the sheriff's short haircut probably didn't need more then a hand towel, but he kept it in since Sam would undoubtedly counter with the fact that a damned _washcloth_ could cover them both completely from sight, and out of everyone there, he was the one with the least amount of hair. Not to mention if they manage to tick her off, she would have unlimited possibilities to get back at them. And on _top_ of all that, Jody's hair was longer then they were tall in places so it was pointless to make any teasing remarks about the lady's shower routine.

Dean looked down at himself and then Sam and knew if they wanted a shower, they'd need some help making it happen. He took a tentative sniff of his own shirt and didn't smell anything at all which was puzzling but added to the list of 'shit that doesn't matter right now'. That list was about equal to the 'shit we need to figure out', and both of them were outnumbered by a thousand miles by the list of, 'shit to be scared as shit over'. Which encompassed basically _everything else in the world._

Dean shook his head at the overwhelming sense of 'we're doomed... _again_.' and focused back on his breakfast instead. Leaving the existential crisis for after they all get home.

Dean took another bite of chocolate and tried to think of some good old fashioned pranks to get even with Claire's poke from yesterday. Missing his chance to do something while she slept, he'd have to get extra creative now that she's awake and alert.

Sam was staring at a handful of granola chunk and chewing thoughtfully. Turning it this way and that with one hand while the other covered his midsection. A warmth was present just beneath his skin, close to where his stomach should be, but, it didn't quite feel like it was his stomach in there. His hand probed around and he caught Dean looking at him with concern.

“So get this, I don't think we're digesting this food.” he shook the chunk of granola in front of himself, and got a blank expression from his brother.

“Come again?” Dean swallowed his half chewed bite of food and felt it go down well enough.

“Here,” Sam said and grabbed Dean's hand and put it over Dean's stomach. “Feel that?”

Dean pushed his fingers in, trying to tell what Sam was getting at. Shaking his head when all he felt was his shirt and torso. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“You don't feel that?”

“Feel _what?_ ” Dean was getting irritated at not understanding. Sam's eyes were bright. The same kind of eagerness and thrill the nerd gets when he's figuring something out for the first time.

“That – that _warmth_.” Sam pushed Dean's fingers harder into his torso with his other hand over his own. “Remember, back when we were alive and after a big meal, you'd feel how stuffed you were. How you'd need to loosen the top button of your jeans, or lay back and rest?”

Dean bobbled his head. Yeah, sometimes they'd have meals big enough to require a quick siesta on the couch. His fingers probed around and there was that slight heat Sam was going on about. His hand moving lower and higher on his chest and feeling the warmth coming specifically from his stomach. Far different then a warm body should be. It was like the rest of him was room temperature.

“What is that?” Dean muttered, looking down at his shirt as if he could see inside himself.

Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin when a shadow covered them completely.

Shooting terrified looks upwards at the nearly 20 foot tall face that hovered overhead, they cursed everything angelic in the world. At least Cas's hair looked less disheveled... but the guy was still _big as hell._ The worried look on his huge face intensifying at the reaction his sudden approach got.

“What's wrong?” Castiel intoned, one hand propping himself up on the bed while the other came in towards them as if he was going to gather them up in a protective fist. Sam shot his hands out to block the massive hand while Dean reached for a weapon he didn't have tucked behind his back. His instinct to defend himself against the massive wall that had darted out towards them.

“Damn it Cas!” Dean nearly shrieked before clearing his throat a few times and wishing like hell he had something to punch to get rid of the sudden fight or flight adrenaline. However, everything around him was fucking fluffy, sticky, or related to him, (and just as startled) and punching any of the above wouldn't help him feel more manly. Thankfully, Cas kept his hand a good six inches away from the shrunken brothers. Fingers as long as they were tall twitching in anticipation. “It's nothing big guy.” Dean looked up with his head cocked sideways at the still looming giant. “Sam here says we got, I don't know, literal heart burn or something.” He brushed his fingers over his stomach again and the warmth was still there.

Castiel rested his forearm on the bed, making it dip down just enough to have the brothers adjust their stance. “May I?” he pointed at Dean's stomach then to Sam's. They knew he would respect their wishes so long as they could give clear conscious requests. If they were passed out, he'd need to do what he thought was best for them. Here, they did not appear to be in danger, however, he needed to know if this was the start of something bad.

Dean looked at Sam and shrugged. What harm could it do to have a check up. He stepped forward to the resting hand and attempted to lift his shirt to have Cas see the area better but found it stuck in place. His hands gripped the fabric and he tugged and twisted it but it refused to show his skin.

Sam huffed a laugh at Dean's strained expression. “Proof you need to change out of your clothes more. I swear you forgot _how_.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean grunted. His over shirt could open wide but he couldn't take it off of his arms, his t-shirt, though untucked, refused to lift up and over his belt line. “What the fuck?” he muttered and faced Sam who went from light mocking to trying to do the same. Finding his clothes stuck on as well. Sam sat down at attempted to unlace his boots but although he could move the loose laces and bows around, the shoes remained firmly adhered to his foot.

“Ok, add that to the pile of weird.” Dean muttered and tried kicking his own boots off without messing with the laces and nothing happened. He waved for Sam to give him his foot so Sam leaned back while sitting on the bedspread, and Dean grabbed his raised right foot with both hands and gave a mighty tug. Hoping that some added strength would do something. But all that happened was that Sam was dragged for a few inches as Dean pulled and kept on pulling. Tripping up on a fold in the bedspread they both sat facing each other with equal looks of befuddlement.

Sam noticed that they had an audience standing all around and over them and waved sheepishly up at them. “Guess we don't have to worry about finding a change of clothes.”

Dean looked up too at everyone and pouted. “And I really wanted a shower too.”

“It makes sense though.” Claire said and all eyes went to her. She shrugged a shoulder and elaborated a bit, “You guys died in those clothes right?” Twin nods. “And when you were brought back, you didn't just come back naked and find those perfect miniature sets of clothes, right? I'm guessing?” more nods. “So those clothes are part of your souls.”

Jody's brows went up. “Huh.” She considered the two tiny men below. “I don't think you boys should try _removing_ them.”

Dean and Sam's hands shot up and away from their clothes. Staring at each other with a bit of wide eyed fear at what they had accidentally tried to do.

“Already been soul-less once in my life, don't need a repeat.” Sam joked lightly, but couldn't hide the nervous tremor in his voice. His hands started to shake a little as they were brought back down to his lap.

It took a minute of staring and thinking about the new discovery before Sam tentatively touched his stomach again past his shirts and light jacket. The warmth was fading a little and he saw Dean mirror the move. Frowning at the new discovery. Castiel cleared his throat just enough to get their attention again and Dean stood on shaky legs, remembering what they were doing before all this. He stepped closer to the outstretched index finger that soon had the middle finger extended as well with the others curled inward and out of the way. It was Cas's usual move for touching human's foreheads, but now, just his index and middle fingers would cover all of Dean's torso. The index finger was placed gingerly over his stomach while the middle was angled over his gut below. Dean held his breath and felt a slight tingle of grace invade his body, but instead of being scared of it, he knew Cas would never intentionally hurt them.

Cas turned his gaze to the left side of Dean as his fingers moved every so slightly around in a tight circle. His jaw firm overhead and eyes squinting. Finally the fingers retreated and the hand was placed palm side down a foot away as Cas gave them some much appreciated personal space.

“Sam's assessment is correct, you are not digesting food, but you are utilizing it.” Castiel searched for the right words. He looked to Jody and Claire to use as examples. “They masticate food, uh – chew their food. Saliva is added and starts to break down the food into a paste before it's swallowed. Then their stomachs add acids and bile to the mix, breaking the food down further and then it's moved into the intestines where every bit of nutrients are taken out of the food before it's turned into waste and excreted.” Castiel stated as matter of fact as possible, even if it was common knowledge between everyone there. He saw the squeamish looks from everyone at it being spelling it out.

Why humans find digestion and waste removal so undesirable of a topic was beyond him. It was fascinating and a triumph of biological design. As if the magnificent subtleties of the human body were something to be shameful of. Castiel sighed and ignored his internal rant to explain what Dean and likely Sam's bodies were doing with their food. “Since they are souls turned corporeal, they are simply able to absorb all of the matter that enters their mouths and bodies as energy and fuel for themselves. There is no need for waste removal because there is nothing left of the food when their souls get done with it. All matter you see is in one form of energy or another. It can be transformed into something useful. I believe your souls, are splitting the atoms of the...” Castiel squinted at the granola bar as if he just now noticed it. “Honey, nuts and cocoa, and the energy released from the deconstructing molecules and atoms are powering up your own nuclear reactor-like souls. Forgive me, I am finding it difficult to find a decent analogy.”

Jody said, “People burn calories. We transform them into energy to move.”

“Yes.” Castiel said. “They wont be using the food to grow or sustain their bodies like living things do, but, they are somehow able to transform the matter into energy for their souls. Right now, it had been transformed into heat energy, but I suspect, you both will feel uh, I suppose the easiest metaphor would be a caffeine high? Energy boost?”

Sam already seemed jittery and said as much. Feeling like he could run laps around the room and it looked like Dean's nervousness was just misplaced energy. He wasn't scared so much as charged up.

Cas picked up on it and thought of the best way for them to use up the excess energy. Jody and Claire hadn't had breakfast yet so a trip to a restaurant on their way out of town sounded good. Sam and Dean would have needed their strength up anyway to deal with the stresses of seeing so many new people outside of their motel room, and so long as they were eager to get going, they might as well take off. A slow leisurely paced meal in the motel room wouldn't help them burn off the extra energy that was still building up in the tiny bodies. They would have to run around for a good half hour to come back down to normal. Sam would be up for it, but Dean needed to get out of this room. As big as it is to them, Cas could tell the older hunter felt a little restless and claustrophobic being stuck in one place.

Castiel repacked the few things he brought into the room and suggested they eat at the greasy spoon restaurant he drove past last night. They'd need to check out of the motel anyway, and he was sure everyone wanted some 'comfort food' before the long drive home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Comments and Kudos are always welcomed :)


	18. The Light Menu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to the local restaurant has its own adventures!  
> And Dean ends up in cold water...

Chapter Eighteen:

The Light Menu

 

 

Jody finished up packing the room, while Claire was pouring over the maps she'd grabbed from the lobby of local attractions and restaurants. There wasn't much in town and they weren't exactly planning on sticking around a week for the festival later on. She sighed and flipped over the brochures again. She hadn't been to a nice festival in ages. Before her family was... no. She wasn't going to think about that. This is her weird little family now and one of these days, she's gonna insist that they all go to a festival somewhere. Do something _normal_ for a change.

Claire smiled to herself at that plan and found a good place to eat. “Looks like the only place worth anything is the 'Deerborne Diner' a few streets away. We could walk there faster then drive.” Claire said and put on her old fashioned camo print hunting jacket. It was far from stylish, stiff fabric hiding her shape underneath, but the many pockets were useful, and would protect her better then the cropped jackets stores sell people her age these days. As if teenagers don't need to stay warm? Or carry anything?

Claire glanced back at the bed and the brothers that still stood on it. “So who are you riding with?” She asked, crouching down to be closer to their eye level. She ended up setting a knee on the floor to keep her balance and to help her appear less huge to them. Seeing their nervous glances all around, she couldn't blame either one.

Sam and Dean were still trying to keep their cool as the new energies circulated and actually built up inside their bodies. Cas called it a caffeine high... that was an _understatement_. Dean's hands kept flexing in and out but that wasn't enough to get rid of the excess juice, Sam's jaw was clenching and Dean could practically hear the teeth grinding sometimes.

“I feel like a damned hummingbird.” Dean muttered and shook his arms out.

Sam faced Claire and said, “Anyone's good to us.” Shrugging and found himself jogging in place on the unstable surface of the bedspread. The need to _move_ was too great to ignore.

Claire's eyes brightened at that and she eagerly lifted a hand towards them. Dean apparently wasn't really paying attention because he yelped and jumped back from the sudden appearance. Clutching his heart when he realized what that huge thing was that shot out towards them. Pointing an accusing finger at the teen, “Don't _do_ that.” Getting nothing more then an eye roll. Glad she didn't take the panicked response to heart.

“You planning on running there?” Claire quipped back and moved her hand closer, but much slower this time.

“Probably could...” Dean saw how pumped up Sam was as well.

“Well, then, let me help you down to the floor.” Claire smirked and wiggled her fingers at him.

Dean tentatively walked closer to the hand, looking down at the stretched out palm and fingers just shy of being as long as he was tall. He then looked up at her. Gauging her intentions, he found her usual willingness to help hidden behind her snark. He knew that she wanted a chance to show that she's not useless here, that she can help out just as much as the others and decided to throw her a bone. Jody hovered behind her close to the door with their bags. Waiting for Dean or Sam to decline the offer or accept it.

“Nah, motel floors are filthy.” Dean waved his hand in the air. “I think I'm good with Claire Air. How about you, Sammy?”

Sam blinked a few times at him and nodded quickly. Clearly trying to figure out how to process the extra energy in a less embarrassing way then fidgeting so much. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Dean gave him a look and faced the hand again. Peering back up at Claire who was smiling a little too widely. “What.” he deadpanned, squinting at her.

“What?” she queried, trying to look calm, cool, and collected. Failing miserably at it, but for the wrong reasons Dean was thinking.

“What are you planning.” Dean folded his arms but his fingers tapped out uncontrollably. Man he needed to get going already and if Claire is planning something...

“Nothing! I just,” Claire used her other hand to brush her long hair back behind her ear. “It's so cool how you're like, so tiny. And. I dunno, I just, want to hold you. Or whatever.” She admitted very quietly and looked anywhere else but down. Admitting it out loud sounded childish. After the silence went on for a few seconds she pulled her hand back. “Nothing. It's stupid. Jody can take you.” and started to stand up.

Dean's arms unfolded and saw the dejected look Claire was trying to hide. But before he could say anything she was already out the door.

Jody came over, wondering what just happened. The men's voices too quiet from her previous position by the door. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing! She changed her mind.” Dean noticed Sam was already back in his own little world of vibrating energy. “Ok, uh, bring us out there and lemme talk to her?”

Jody bent over and both of her hands came forward cupped like a bowl. Dean smacked Sam's back, jolting him back to the present and they approached Jody's hands. She felt the minuscule fingers on their hands push down on her fingertips and she opened up her hands a bit more to lay more flat, like a platform. In total awe at the sensations of their tiny bodies climbing up onto her fingers and half hunching over to walk to the palms where they both flopped down to sit. Barely any weight to either of them. Sam saw how awkward it would be for Jody to walk around with her hands cupped like that and elbowed Dean into joining him on one hand, pulling him over to sit on the left palm next to him. Dean grumbled but complied and the sheriff stood up slowly again.

Dean clenched his eyes shut and started humming Metallica and Jody felt his teeny tiny fingers grip onto the small wrinkles in her hand and between her fingers. She said, “I'm going to curl my fingers, like a seat belt. Is that alright?”

Dean looked up at her again and she saw the stress clear as day and wasted no time curling them around Dean and part of Sam, pulling the hand closer to her chest but paused when she heard a few shocked 'Whoa!'s from them. Oh. Right. She's a woman... and has boobs. The impulse to chide them over their school boy exclamations died on her tongue when she thought of it from their point of view. _She_ knows and _they_ know that there's never been anything between them besides close friendship but that doesn't change the fact that they're facing breasts that are each bigger then both of them combined. They might be a bit uncomfortable right _there_. She lowered her hand a few inches towards her stomach instead to get rid of the awkwardness and heard both brothers clear their throats to regain some composure. Some playful ribbing to clear the air. “I ain't that easy, boys.”

Sam busted out laughing and Dean punched him.

Jody grinned at the sight of them turning in their half pinned seats to look anywhere else but her shirt. She walked around the beds, double checked the room to make sure that they weren't forgetting anything before she brought them closer to her lower stomach to hide them from sight with her Sheriff's coat. The room closed up behind her and the sun was shining brightly over the town.

Claire was hovering around the Impala's trunk next to Castiel who was shifting things around in there. The teen was likely checking over the weapons stash for ideas on what to get for herself later on for her hunting career. Or perhaps what she could swipe that the brother's wouldn't miss.

Jody approached Claire and tapped her shoulder with her free hand. “Hey, your jacket has better pockets then mine. Here,” she lifted the brothers back up, and carefully pushed them forward. Claire's hands shot up and splayed out. They were transferred over without much incident and Claire's eyes were wide as can be at the sight. Two whole people were now moving around on her hand to keep from falling over after that abrupt move.

“Yeah... uh, yeah.” Claire stammered and her hands started to shake. Jody's hand was on her shoulder for a moment. Helping calm her nerves.

“It's Ok.” Jody murmured and felt Claire take a deep breath.

“We aren't made of glass.” Dean called up, swallowing his own nerves. “C'mon kid, daylight's wasting. Chop chop.”

Sam stood on the still trembling platform with a hand grabbing the top of her lightly raised thumb before he pointed at one of the jacket's stiff pockets. That one was higher up on her chest, closer to her shoulder. “We'll be fine in there.”

Claire let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, and her smile flickered on the face above them. They appeared for all the world like dolls moving around and talking before Dean ruined it by heaving breaths from dizziness. Relieved that he can't throw up on her because of what Cas was saying about their systems. Best to get him situated instead of keeping him suspended in air with nothing but her shaking hand underneath.

Reminding herself that all they're doing is just going to the restaurant. Not into battle. She lifted up the flap on the jacket's top pocket and brought them closer, fingers and palm shifting underneath them at the constantly changing angles. “Don't steal my gum.”

“No promises.” Dean pulled the outer edge of the pocket down and planted a foot on top to swing the other one inside easier. Sam's hands went to his arm and shoulder to help steady him inside. Once his feet were on the narrow ground, Dean got his hands around the nearly empty gum pack and shoved it up at Sam who took the cue and pulled it out the rest of the way to make room for the other brother. It was heavier then it looked. Coming up to Dean's chest. He wouldn't have been able to lift a full pack as easily.

“Better grab this before he gets any ideas.” Sam chuckled and pushed the gum pack into the palm behind him. “He'd probably find a way to get it stuck in your hair.” Sam motioned at the long blond locks that waved in the slight breeze outside. Just a few strands were likely strong enough to hold them up. Sam put that bit of info away for later. New revelations every few minutes. Sam was sure that when Dean eventually comes to that same observation, there will be more then a few Rapunzel references thrown around, so he kept it to himself for now.

Sam scooted closer to the pocket and took Dean's hands to help pull him inside. This transition was a bit easier then before with Cas's pockets. Noticing that this one wasn't nearly as deep, because Dean's head and shoulders were seen plain as day. Looks like they'll have to crouch down or sit to avoid being seen.

Claire's voice came from above and next to them, literally shaking them from their observations. “I think it was meant for a large compass or something. At least I'm not wearing what other girls wear, there is no room for _anything_ in those pockets. Half the time they're fake! I swear they think girls don't need to carry anything.”

Jody's voice came from behind Claire and then around, “They're working with the purse industry to keep us buying the over-sized bags to carry all of our junk. I don't care for purses. That's why I like to wear my work belt.” She shook it for emphasis and showed off the numerous leather compartments for her badge, gun, mace and other stuff she needs for her job. She wore a loose shirt to help hide it most days when she was off work but still felt the need to be prepared. Realizing that in a pinch, the compartment that holds her handcuffs would be perfect size for at least one Winchester, the other could be held inside the one for her mace or her flashlight. Or both inside her gun holster. Ideas for later if trouble showed up unexpectedly. Shaking her head at the notion that they'd be totally fine with hanging back during a real fight.

“I'm starved. You ready, Castiel?” Jody asked as she rounded the trunk, subconsciously patting herself down to make sure all was concealed and where it belonged.

Cas squinted at the trunk and eventually nodded. “I don't think we will need any weapons.”

“Probably not.” Jody agreed, glancing up at Claire who finally got enough courage to start walking with them in her pocket. Claire's steps were almost too careful and controlled. As if she was walking on a high beam. Biting the corner of her lower lip in apprehension.

Jody hooked her arm through Castiel's and angled him towards the downtown area. Claire stared at them before remembering that they were going somewhere and walked a little faster to catch up. Feeling the brothers shift around and get comfortable. She had a great urge to cover up their pocket with a hand to protect them even more, but there were so many people out and about it would only attract unwanted attention.

Dean felt the heart next to them pick up a little and said, “Breath, Claire. Just breath.” Not sure if she could even hear him but he wanted to say something to help. Even if he only just got himself collected a minute ago.

Sam fiddled with his jacket pockets as the giant teen's gait evened out into something more natural. “It feels like normal cloth.” He mused and got Dean's attention since there wasn't much to look at inside their narrow hammock. “What I mean is, I don't _feel it_ as if it's part of my _soul_.” His fingers rubbed the jacket's material and it wrinkled and sounded like normal.

Dean did the same. “Well, when we were souls floating around, we didn't really feel anything either. Just uh, the electricity in the air and in machines. The animals we hijacked felt real though. I remembering being able to touch and stuff and it was, almost jarring.”

“Same here.” Sam looked up at the pocket's flap that was half tucked in to let in some light and fresh air. “You know, that day we died, I had my knife on me nearly that whole day. And I know you had your derringer in your ankle holster at least since noon. Shouldn't we still, I dunno, still have them on us?”

“Not to mention the lock pick I keep sewn into this shirt I'm wearing.” Dean added, feeling around the lower hem of the shirt in question. “Wait... what the fuck?” His fingers prodded and he felt something appear where there was nothing just a minute ago. He gaped as he pulled out the lock pick set from the hidden pocket and held it up to Sam.

“Where did that come from?” Sam reached forward but just as Dean set it in Sam's hand, it slowly dissipated into the air like glowing cigar smoke. Turning into a thin string of wispy white soul light and was sucked back into the center of Dean's chest.

Dean backed up into his corner of the pocket. Mouth hanging open. Hands tracing where the light entered. “What was that?!”

Sam's index finger shook at Dean's chest. “That was.. it was.. _you_. It uh, it manifested and then...” waving the hand about in the air between them. “Let me see if I can't...” Sam put his hand to his back and closed his eyes tight, fingers prodding at his lower back and he felt something _come out of it,_ harden and become solid as his fingers tightened around it. He pulled it up and out of it's hiding place and carefully brought it around his front to show his brother.

Dean stared at it. “That's your knife, Sam.” he whispered.

“Yeah.” Sam was breathless, hand trembling around the handle of his old knife.

“The one that _killed you,_ Sam.” Dean felt like he had to specify which knife.

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam was conflicted and worried. He tried to set it down onto the frayed hem of the pocket that ran underneath both of them, but just like Dean's lock pick, it turned to white soul mist and shot towards his chest. He sucked in a breath and jerked back from it. That was too damned similar to before. When that monster jammed the entire blade into his chest. The mist entered only two inches to the left of where the knifes deadly blow landed. Sam shook, scared and stunned.

Dean's hand shot out and pat Sam's knee. “It's ok, Sammy. It's fine.”

“No it's _not,_ Dean!” Sam spat out and breathed for a second. “Sorry, it's just. That was fucked up.”

“You're telling me.” Dean huffed a humorless laugh.

A huge dark shadow came up from beyond their space and without thinking, Dean immediately reached for his small gun in his ankle holster and fired off a couple of shots at the movement beyond.

Holes appeared in the fabric and the shadow jolted away just as their pocket room jerked back.

“Ow! What the fuck was that?” Claire's voice boomed outside before the giant teen stilled and they were suddenly bathed in light from above. “Did you just – Did one of you _shoot_ me?!”

Sam and Dean saw one of Claire's eyes far above, her head only half blocking out the sunlight overhead.

“I didn't – well – ah.” Dean stammered, holding the gun down with the safety snapped back into place. He saw two small bundles of light zip through the pocket fabric and embed themselves painlessly into his chest. His hand coming up to feel his shirt. Fingers rubbing where the soul bullets re-entered. Peering up to the accusing glare above. Too small for her to see apparently. “Sorry?”

Sam shifted around to his knees then feet, now able to see that they were nearly at the restaurant's front door. Stopped on the sidewalk with Cas and Jody a few paces ahead, looking back at her with worry. Sam noticed that her hand was held up and out. “Are you Ok?”

Claire huffed, annoyed. “Dude. Which one of you shot me?”

Dean looked guilty and tucked the gun to his side. He struggled to a stand as well and turned to face Claire a bit better. Or as best he could being so close to her. “That was completely my bad. I saw a shadow, and, uh. Yeah. Sorry, Claire.” Turning in place to inspect the damage. “You alright? Let me see the wounds.”

Claire started to bring her hand closer when it stopped and moved swiftly away. Eyebrow raised, “You're not gonna shoot me again are you?”

“Just bring it here. I swear it was an accident.” Dean sighed. He felt guilty as hell, but if she was fine enough to chide him about it, she probably wasn't at risk of bleeding to death.

Claire eyed him up for a second then brought it over. Dean's hands moved over her palm and very gently prodded at the tiny circular holes that pockmarked her skin. He knew there were no bullets embedded within, no risk of lead poisoning, but the affected area still let out a single drop of blood each. “It looks alright to me. No worse then a needle prick. A band-aid aught to be good enough.”

“And the bullets? Just gonna leave them in there?”

“There were no bullets. Not really. Not real ones at least.” Dean said. “They were bits of my soul, I guess. They got sucked back into me like a second after leaving the gun. Here, watch this.”

Dean lifted up the small derringer and held it outside of the pocket by two fingers, letting it dangle over the long heights. Claire's hand darted underneath to catch it as he let go but before it landed on her palm, it dissipated into a small ball of bright soul light and shot towards Dean's chest through the pocket material. Physical objects were not gonna stop soul light.

“See? It's part of me. Sam found his knife where he usually kept it and it did the same thing.”

Castiel stepped closer and just stared at them after that demonstration and observation.

Jody came over next and asked, “So, what does that mean?”

No one had a clue.

Castiel made sure they weren't drawing a crowd as he gestured for them to continue the discussion in a more private area. The outside dining space seemed as good of a place as any as he leaned closer to Claire but faced elsewhere as he spoke. “Sam, you were uh...” He glanced at the ladies reluctant to continue. He didn't want to divulge the specifics of their deaths as it's probably a tender topic. Sam folded his arms over the pocket's edge to lean closer.

“Yeah, Cas?”

Castiel muttered, “The knife you manifested, is that the same one that... uhmm.” He let it hang and Sam nodded. Castiel knew that was probably a sore spot for the hunter. “Can you manifest other weapons?”

“Let me try.” Sam said and nudged Dean to do the same. Both poked and prodded their clothes and came up with their small flashlights that didn't work, Sam's cell phone which was also dead, Sam's lock pick set, and other odds and ends. The Impala's keys were of course useless due to their absolutely tiny size, and the fact that Dean had to have constant physical contact with them or else they'd dissipate back into himself a few seconds later. Just like everything else they tried to drop from the pocket. They each had a small flask of holy water always present in their jackets, as well as a baggie of salt. Dean had a pocketknife that did manage to cut the edge of Claire's pocket, but it took a lot of sawing back and forth to separate the thick fibers that made up the fabric. Sam grit his teeth and unwilling pulled out his long knife again and started cutting his own section of pocket before Claire cleared her throat at them in anger. “I like this jacket.”

“Sorry.” Sam said sheepishly and instead of trying to drop the knife again, put it back behind his waistband himself. It sunk back into his body and that was unnerving as hell, but not as much as seeing things go flying into his chest. Not fun in the least. His death replaying every time. Dean had no qualms about that for himself.

Castiel watched Dean drop the same manifested quarter a dozen times in a row before he hummed in thought. “Are you two feeling that same built up energy as before?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other and realized that they didn't. They felt normal.

“It takes energy to create these things that you had on yourselves when you were living. Anything you had on you that day, but nothing else, correct?”

“Yeah.” Dean spoke up, flipping the quarter up and slapping it on the back of his hand to see what side came up. Heads or tails. He must have pushed down too hard because it just went inside his hand instead. Dean shook it out and faced Cas again. “I tried to make my grenade launcher but came up with bub-kiss.”

“Well, I think it's a blessing in disguise that, being hunters, you were prepared for conflict even when you were only going to that house for information gathering. Normal people, even normal law enforcement, wouldn't likely have weapons on them like you do, _did_ , on a daily basis.”

“Yeah? Well what good does it do us if we can't make the stuff stay out?” Dean asked, tossing the quarter out as far and fast as he could but watched it crumble back into mist and shoot back just as fast into himself.

“Claire's hand is proof enough that just because it doesn't stay put where you want it, doesn't mean it can't impact physical objects. In fact, it's probably _better_ this way.” Castiel's eyes brightened, “Dean, you have a gun that will never run out of bullets, and Sam, your weapons will never be taken from you or lost.”

Sam's brow raised at that and it did sound pretty damned cool. Years of having their guns and knifes flying out of their grip by the bad guys was annoying and dangerous as hell. Now? They might actually have a fighting chance. Any advantage was invaluable at this size. “Alright. I see what you're saying.” Sam smiled.

A loud growling sound came from underneath and Claire blushed overhead at the twin jumps. “What? I didn't have breakfast yet and it's almost lunch.” She defended the stomach growl and whined a little. “Can we eat now?”

Jody grinned back and said, “I'm buying. And since you boys just used up all your energy playing boomerang with your things, I'm betting you wouldn't mind a few bites of food as well.”

“Awesome.” Dean smirked and tugged Sam to duck and hide along with him. “Think they got waffles?”

Claire stood and followed the others inside the warm homey atmosphere. The restaurant was packed in one corner with a Tv playing some game, and the other side held more sedate customers reading the paper or having light conversations. No one really gave the three people any more then a glance. Cas picked a booth in the far corner for privacy and the small group went ignored by even the staff for a few minutes. Claire helped the brothers out of her pocket and onto the tabletop.

There was a laminated desert menu that was folded upright into a triangle shape in the middle of the table that looked like a tall tent to the boys. They used it to help hide from prying eyes. It faced the empty space between Cas and Jody, with Claire seated opposite. It worked out in everyone's favor because the only people that could see them now had to be sitting right where the three were seated. Dean leaned up against one side to be able to see out both entrances by just turning his head, and Sam leaned against the other to balance out the laminated paper tent.

The waitress brought over a large glass pitcher of ice water and three full glasses. She went through the specials and Castiel went last so he could get the brother's order. Sam was using sign language to tell the angel that Dean wanted blueberry waffles and he wanted to try out an orange and some eggs sunny side up.

Castiel had to use the excuse that he forgot his glasses at home as he squinted and leaned forward to see Sam's tiny sign language from over the menu he held in his hands. The menus were briskly gathered again, and they all talked about memorable diners they'd all been to while waiting for their food to arrive.

When it finally did, the table was awash with scents that were too heavenly to ignore for the brothers. Dean hesitated for just a second before army crawling out to Castiel's plate with Sam just strolling out after him. Chiding him for the over-dramatic entrance seeing as how there was no one else in sight.

Jody placed her's and Cas's glasses just so, so that they were hidden from view in case someone came up too fast on their table. It didn't look terribly likely since they were in the corner and everyone else was at the other end of the restaurant surrounding a Tv. Apparently the game was on and this was the best place to watch. Cheers echoed around the place along with friendly arguments about players that no one at their table knew. Must be a local game.

Dean dove right into the waffles, knocking his knuckles onto the large metal pitcher of syrup that was a good three inches taller then he was. Cas dutifully poured out the thick brown syrup into the waffle squares until Dean gave the 'cut' motion. Tearing off a corner to dip into the square bowls. Cas then started to cut up long strips of egg for Sam who gave the huge knife and fork a wide berth. Each piece of silverware was a good 10 feet long to them.

Claire tucked into her food, enjoying the meal, but more-so the brothers who were making Cas's breakfast look like a sloppy mess. Cas didn't seem to mind at all and waited for them to call it quits before he ate the rest. No qualms at all about how often Dean double dipped or how Sam had spread out the dozens of orange juice bits he sucked dry. Sam had peeled out individual packets of juice from the orange slice and bit off a corner to drink. Even Dean grabbed a few, chuckling at how they were like organic juice boxes that had edible packaging. Cas ate away, enjoying human food while also making sure no servers or strangers were going to pop up unexpectedly. Jody went to grab one of the newspapers to read. Claire played on her phone.

None of them noticed Dean climbing up the napkin holder to reach the pitcher of water. He just wanted to wash his hands of the syrup's stickiness. He figured no one else was going to use the pitcher since they all had full water glasses in front of them still. Jody was working on her coffee and Claire had ordered a pop. Cas usually drinks his at the start of meals so that left a nearly full pitcher of water that was going to go to waste anyway. Washing his hands in someones glass that they used sounded gross as hell.

Dean doesn't have to ask for help doing everything, least of all washing his damned hands, so he scaled up the napkin holder and leaned over the edge of the pitcher. Sam tore his gaze away from the other side of Jody's newspaper he was reading, and noticed the movement.

“Dean?” Sam called over, getting on his feet just as Dean leaned a bit too far over. “Dean!” Sam scrambled over to the water pitcher just as Dean was submerged inside.

Cas's attention went right to the action on the table and his hands dove forwards to catch him but was too late. A couple of seconds after Dean plunged under the surface, the strangest thing happened. His body went from solid to soul bright and wispy. Dean was no longer corporeal, the light swirled around in the pitcher when Castiel lifted it from the table. The half melted ice cubes clinked against the glass as Cas pulled it in closer to view from above. Memories of the souls in that lake, drifting down into the depths with no true control of their movements. Pulled wherever the water wanted them. Dissipating.

“Dean?!” Cas said and without even thinking, dipped his hand up to his forearm inside. He felt the soul's warm touch amid the ice cold water, and curled his fingers, scooping around the water and attempted to gather up the rest of the soul to his hand in a tight ball of light. Sam was pacing back and forth in front of him as the pitcher was lowered to Cas's lap to get a better angle inside. Reaching the corners of the pitcher for every last bit of soul.

A waitress heard the exclamation and came closer. “Everything alright, Sir?” She asked.

Sam dove off of the table and into Cas's lap because he had no other options. Jody was closer to the server and everything else was just too far away. Sam flipped around to his stomach and slid down Cas's lap to the seat below. He could see jody tense up and one of her arms dropped to cover his landing but stayed high enough not to squish him. Sam turned to watch the distorted view of Cas's fingers swirling around inside the glowing water. His brother's soul light was being condensed behind the fingers and palm. The angel was struggling to keep Dean from slipping through his fingers and dissipating into the water again. Like trying to catch dye in the water. The light leaked out anyway between his fingers and danced all around under the table. Sam was scared she was going to notice the light show going on below.

Jody finally addressed the server now that Sam was safely out of sight. “It's fine! All fine. All Ok, he just uh, he dropped uh...” She tried to wrack her brain for what Cas could have dropped inside a water pitcher. Realizing that the angel doesn't wear rings or _anything_. She quickly took off her own silver ring and brought it to the pitcher, discreetly dropping it inside while pointing at the bottom.

“My ring! I got some uh, I got some egg yolk in it and he was washing it out for me.” Jody gave an abashed look at the server.

Castiel's attention was solely on getting Dean gathered together and compacted solid in his hand. But he knew even if it worked, he couldn't exactly pull a tiny man out of the water. Especially not now that Dean doesn't even have a body and it doesn't look like he'll have one anytime soon. Castiel was not sure which would have been worse, a glowing soul cloud, or a four inch tall human?

The server just wouldn't go away so he sighed and resorted to pulling Dean's soul all the way into his vessel. He fumbled around the bottom of the pitcher for the ring next. Holding up the dripping band of silver for all to see.

“Got it.” He announced and awkwardly handed it over to Jody. Putting the pitcher back onto the table a little too abruptly. Water splashed about and Claire nearly busted out laughing at the whole situation.

Claire pulled the waitresses elbow towards her, “Don't mind them, this is their first date with me present. Hey, can I get a side of pie? Do you serve pie this early?”

The server jolted out of her staring contest with Castiel and said absently, “Uh yup, sure. We have apple and cherry.”

“One of each.” Claire gave Jody a look and she played along.

“Make that two of each, for the road. Thank you! We can get the check now.”

“Yup... of course. Sorry for interrupting your, uh, your date.” The server lifted her pad of tickets and wrote the desert order up on her way back to the kitchen.

Claire snickered into her hand. Wondering all the scenarios that were going through the poor server's head. But honestly, it was so weird for her to have Castiel, who looks like her deceased father, and Jody, who basically adopted her as her own, sitting across from her, like they were _together_. To anyone else, having a date with a kid present might help explain the earnestness that Cas showed while scrabbling his hand inside the water pitcher. People generally don't get that emotionally invested in that kind of thing. As if it's life or death.

Cas's arm was now drenched with ice cold water and the angel was being stared at by Jody who never thought of their group like that. Knowing Cas was using Jimmy's vessel, but that Jimmy wasn't in it anymore, and that she herself adopted Claire who was Jimmy's daughter... it was startling. It's not like she was going to suddenly have feelings for the angel, but, wondered if Cas would start seeing it that way. Jody shook her head. No. Just because they have ties to Claire doesn't mean that they suddenly have to start something. Besides, she's pretty sure the angel doesn't see _anyone_ in that way. Least of all someone he barely knows.

Claire waited till they were alone at the table to ask, “How's Sam? Is Dean fine where he is?”

Sam had wedged himself into the folds of Cas's trench coat to avoid being crushed by the jostling pitcher of water. Close enough to the large side pockets of the coat if he needed to jump in for a hasty get-away. Hearing that the threat is gone for now, he laboriously climbed up and out of the coat's folds just enough for Jody to see him and get her hand underneath his feet to lift him up the rest of the way to the table.

“What happened to Dean?” Sam asked, looking between the water pitcher and Cas. “Is he.. did he just go back to being a soul?”

“For the moment, yes. He is safe inside my vessel. I do not know if he can return to a corporeal form... but we shouldn't try anything here.” Castiel said quietly. They had to wait for the four slices of pie and the bill to leave the restaurant. No one wanted to draw even more attention to themselves. Also, knowing full well the hell-fire that would reign down on the angel if he denied Dean pie after that whole fiasco. Cas just hoped that Dean will be able to eat it once he's pulled out of the vessel again.

“Let's go.” Jody stated and led the way.

Sam was tucked away inside Cas's closed hand after insisting he gets as close to Dean as possible. The cold dampness of it wasn't enough to dissuade him into finding another location. Sam put his hand on Cas's index finger, imagining it was his brother's hand that he was grabbing and reassuring. “We'll figure this out, Dean.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet!   
> So water is their weakness, but they found a few hidden surprises to help them out later. :)


	19. Let There Be Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break-through.

Chapter Nineteen:

Let There Be Light

 

 

 

The walk back to the Impala was tense. Castiel tucked the hand that was holding Sam inside his deep side coat pocket, but still kept him gently enclosed within the loose fist. Castiel knew that Sam wouldn't want to be just stored in there if there was no one else present, like his brother. The feeling of tiny hands grabbing a firm hold of his index finger would have been endearing if it weren't for the emotions behind it. Sam was scared. Scared of loosing his brother. Being separated like this. Being alone in this way. No one else was able to experience this huge world along side him. Dean deserved to have his second chance back. Existing as more then just a wispy cloud of soul.

Sam closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the inside of the damned pocket, and tried to sense out his brother inside of the angel's vessel. The skin he was nearly encased in was warming up from that ice water bath, but it still felt _off_. Maybe it was knowing that Cas wasn't human, or that the body wasn't even Jimmy's old one. This body is just a copy of it that God had made just for Cas. Strong enough to hold not just Cas but also _Lucifer_ and even _Crowley_ for a hot minute. Sam traced the fingerprint ridges on the inner pad of the large index finger he cradled in his hands, and wondered if God had given Cas his own fingerprints to prove this newly made body was intended just for Castiel. Cas deserved to have it for his own.

There was no point in trying to figure any of that out, though. Sam knew it was just his mind trying to distract him from thinking about how screwed Dean is right now. Stuck. Stuck in so many ways. Stuck inside the vessel until Cas lets him out, stuck in his soul form, stuck being alone without anyone like him at all. Stuck standing still while everything and everyone else around him is allowed to change and grow or at least experience life's pleasures.

Sam's voice started breaking as he tried to talk to Dean but he was getting no response back. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected, but the silence was killing him. He felt Castiel continue to walk, the hand gently lifting and lowering like a boat on rolling waves with the steady gait, and wondered just how far they were all going to go just to find some privacy to figure out what the hell to do now.

Sam started to think hard about what he wanted in life... or, afterlife as the case may be. He knew for certain he didn't want to just abandon Dean to an existence that was as lonely as it could get. Being there, right _there_ , but unable to interact like normal people. As normal as Sam's current situation is of course.

Sam thought that if this was it, if Dean lost his chance when he slipped and fell into that water pitcher, then the only thing he wanted to do was to find his own bit of water and jump right in. That way, at least they'd have each other on equal ground again. It felt wrong that he had a bigger advantage over Dean after a simple mistake. Who would have thought that their bodies were not water friendly?! If Sam goes back to being a floating soul again, maybe they could figure out a different way of returning to humanity. Preferably one that wasn't in this reduced state. They both felt so fucking _useless_ small. Why not take a step back in their soul-evolution and try try again? Isn't that how the saying goes? Sometimes you gotta step back so you can leap forward?

Sam opened his eyes again and peered up at the opening of the pocket that wasn't being blocked by the large sleeve and wrist above his current position. Sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of Castiel's grim face even higher up above when the pocket swung forwards but it was covered again by fabric when it swung back to the angel's side. Sam sighed and turned his attention back towards the index finger he had in his hands at his right side. Cas's hand was curled in such a way that Sam was sitting on the first joints of the pinky and ring fingers and leaning up against the middle and index right where it connected to the wide palm that took up his entire left side and hung partly above his legs. His right side was closest to Cas's own right side and Sam was facing backwards. The thumb hung overhead like a huge tree and kept the middle finger from opening too far. Cas's hand was in as loose of a fist as possible without it being outright open. Sam was glad for that, but, still felt annoyed at the fact that he could fit in a stupid hand. At least it was just Cas, and Cas being Cas, didn't seem to have any hangups over Sam's inspection of the hand surrounding him. Taking it all in stride. Bless his angel heart.

Castiel could feel Sam trace his fingers and palm and kept his hand as still as he could while they all walked back to the motel. He heard the younger brother's broken pleading earlier, but chose not to comment on it. It wasn't meant for his ears. Cas hoped that Dean was ok. He could feel the soul fluttering about inside his vessel, disoriented and listless. He was sure Dean couldn't hear any of what Sam said. Castiel's heart hurt thinking about it, and he couldn't wait to get somewhere so they could regroup and figure this out safely without attracting any attention. It was a very long shot, but if someone were to see a human soul, a tiny person, and an angel all in one place, they might just die of fright. It's happened a couple of times to people that can't deal with the supernatural. Their deaths would attract a Reaper right to them, and they'd be powerless to stop the Reaper.

Castiel sighed aloud and kept walking. The need to stay off people's radar kept him from loosing his composure as Dean's soul tickled him within. Dean was trying to figure out what the hell happened to it. Before they even left the restaurant's parking lot, the soul drifted from the angel's loosely closed right hand, following the path of whooshing blood towards his heart. Perhaps sensing the thumping pathways of blood was somehow meant for him. However, at some point in that journey towards Cas's heart, Dean came to and realized where he was. Evident if only because he raced back towards Castiel's right hand again with a kind of desperate urgency. Pressing his soul self against the barrier that kept him inside the vessel.

Cas bit his lower lip, hating how he was keeping Dean from coming out just yet. They only had a block to go. Castiel pulled the keys ungainly from his right pants pocket with his unoccupied left hand to unlock the Impala. He wordlessly motioned for the others to get into the car as well. Castiel sat in the driver's seat, with Jody in the front passenger and Claire in the center rear. Everyone looked around themselves for anyone nearby before Cas lifted his hand out of his pocket. Setting Sam on the seat between him and Jody for the shrunken human's protection. Claire hovered over the bench seat to see what's going on.

Sam dismounted clumsily due to the finger placement, and peered back up at the hand as it raised slightly from the seat and turned to have his palm angled upwards. Cas was trying to get a good angle to release Dean's soul away from Sam's immediate location.

Castiel looked at his slightly curled fingers with his palm up and fingers facing the dash and whispered aloud quietly as well as internally, “Dean, when you come on out, stay low. We are in the Impala and everything's going to be alright.” He waited a beat to see if Dean understood and straightened out his hand a bit more when he felt Dean do the soul equivalent of body slamming the barrier inside his hand to get out.

Cas let go and Dean burst out, nearly going through the car's roof in his haste to escape before registering that he was outside and free again. Dean sparked at Cas for keeping him captive for so long but forgave his friend a moment later when he saw the look of regret in those big blue eyes. Cas's tattered wings were drooping behind him and he just looked so damned sorry for what happened. Dean's vision quickly returned to spherical again with all the perks of having no filters. Infrared, radio-waves, magnetic fields, auras, and all the other spectrum's coming at him at once. It took a second to get himself sorted out since the angel's vessel muted all that somewhat. Surrounding him in one large celestial being helped filter out the excess information of the complex world beyond.

The soul light swirled tightly and let out a few pulses that almost looked like a shiver. The bright soul slowed down its spin when it located Sam standing directly below. The roughly basket-ball sized soul darted down to hover within an inch of his tiny brother to get a closer look at him.

Sam staggered back from the intense light that fell from the air so fast, blocking the bright light and huge sudden mass with a raised arm as if it was going to fall right on him and incinerate his tiny body. Sam's breath hitched at how close it had gotten to him. Startled fear overriding his brain, his other arm came up to block the brightness a second later.

Dean got the hint and forced himself to dim his light a little so that Sam can see again. He also moved a little away to give his trembling brother some space. Remembering all the times he gave Cas shit for ignoring personal space and here he is doing it to Sam. And damn did the kid look _short_! Dean's getting a good view from just a half foot away. Sam isn't even tall enough to see over the hand Cas just turned to it's side. Dean himself felt huge compared to Sam even though he too was much smaller then the humans and angel in the car.

Sam sat upright and faced the large glowing soul in front of him. Grateful for the dimmed light so now he wasn't at risk of going blind just looking at it. _Him._ “Dean!” Sam shouted and got to his feet, stepping forward when Dean drifted away a little. Sam reached the edge of the bench seat with Dean hovering close to the radio. Sam's brow furrowed. Why was Dean backing up so far? Was he trying to avoid getting too close? Was it because Dean though that he was a danger to him? Sam's not that fragile. Dean said it himself just hours ago. He's just... shorter then normal. Four inches tall isn't that bad considering he could have been much smaller, or in worse shape, or even no shape at all. Going by what Cas said about the real possibility that they could have been blown away into nothing during that spell.

The floating soul was as large as a big living room to Sam now, but it was still his brother. “Dean, talk to me, you ok?”

The soul spun and stilled, a faint buzz heard like an electrical current running along a power-line. Sam blinked. Dean was trying to talk to him. Sam shook his head to say that he didn't understand and the soul fell a few inches. Dean's soul pulsed once before lifting up and going closer to the radio to make it turn on for a few seconds of static before leaving the dashboard again. Having used up some of his energy just to do that much. He seemed a little drained.

“I don't... I don't know what that's supposed to mean.” Sam admitted and looked way up to Castiel's face above. The angel was squinting hard at Dean in deep thought. Jody was on his other side and looked like she was at a loss as well.

“Were you trying for Morse code with the radio?”

Dean flickered a few times before sinking. Messages still unclear and it was so damned frustrating for Sam. They'd prided themselves in always getting what the other one wanted to say. Now it was almost like strangers speaking other languages.

Claire spoke up from behind. “Can't he just, change back?”

Sam startled at the voice behind him, but then turned to face Dean again.

Castiel squinted at the two and mused aloud, “I do not know. He might not have enough mojo for it. He seems drained.”

Dean's soul flickered a little in the air and came back down in front of Sam. Sam looked depressed as hell. A tendril of nearly see through light was uncoiling from the main mass and came closer to the small man. Hesitant and curious, the glowing tendril spun in the air similar to lazy cigar smoke. Sam reached forward and felt a connection as it gently ran into his fingers.

Sparks forming between them, the air suddenly smelled like the charged energy before a lightning strike and all of Sam's hair stood on end for a brief second. A ripple of light and static charge swept through the soul from the hand and tendril contact and in the span of three seconds, several things happened. The soul's light pulsed once but not as bright or even as powerful as they were all expecting. The wispy soul cloud shrunk down _incredibly_ fast. The light dimmed dramatically while changing into muted colors, quickly forming a humanoid shape. The figure was laying in mid air, more or less on it's stomach with Dean's awestruck face lifted and aimed towards Sam. Dean's hand was touching Sam's hand with the rest of his small renewed body hanging briefly in mid air with nothing supporting him underneath.

Gravity caught up to him and he dropped like a stone to the floor far below.

Sam nearly flung himself down as well to catch Dean but his brother slipped from his reach too fast. “No!” Sam was on his own stomach, arm stretched out helplessly.

Dean landed on his stomach on the floor with a soft thump and groaned loudly at the rough landing. Dean flipped himself over and breathed through the soreness as he saw two giant faces lean over and Sam's much smaller worried face dead center over three stories overhead. Dean coughed and moaned some more as he sat upright. Patting himself down and trying to figure out why he didn't have any broken bones at that long drop.

“Dean?!” Sam called down, leaning forward.

“Sam?” Dean coughed again and stood up, cracking his back. “Man. That _sucked_.”

Sam was too close to the seat's edge and his body slipped and pitched forward. He wasn't paying attention to his handholds. His yelp of surprise got caught in his throat when he saw the ground coming up fast. Before he could brace himself for the impact, he exploded into a ball of light over top of Dean.

“Whatthefuck!” Dean shouted as he ducked down from the sudden appearance of a huge thing coming right for him. Dean uncovered his head when he saw the blinding soul past his arms as they parted just enough to peek out and see why he wasn't crushed by the massive falling thing.

The soul sputtered light all around Dean like he was just as scared as the newly re-formed man underneath.

“Sammy?” Dean asked tentatively, squinting hard at how close the light source was to him. The soul jolted, rolled backwards into itself before it darted away from Dean. Going deeper under the foot well avoiding the two pairs of shoes as well.

Dean sat down heavily, still aching from his fall and raised a calming hand towards Sam. Trying to figure out how this works along with Sam who was obviously freaked at becoming a floating soul again without any warning. When Sam stayed deep underneath the dashboard instead of coming out, Dean growled under his breath and stood up. He saw that both Cas and Jody were sitting stock still, and waved for them to give him a minute. The giants looked even more intimidating from down here on the floor but he couldn't just abandon Sam to live in hiding. Dean stretched out his stiff neck and started walking closer to Sam like it was no big deal. “I'm no expert, but I'd say that connecting with another soul might be what triggers our change back.”

Sam blinked a few times at him but dodged the outstretched hand when it got too close. Going through the car's dash above them and coming out of the radio. Too high for Dean to reach on his own.

Dean folded his arms and had to backtrack a couple dozen steps to see Sam hovering far above him. “What are you doing? I'm not playing tag you idiot! I'm trying to get you back!” He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers up at Sam's soul that started to make the radio's dial spin and flicker.

Cas held up his index finger in the 'wait a minute' gesture to Dean. Then stared intently at Sam's soul as it made the radio light blink rapidly. He felt obligated to say what Sam was saying in Morse code. “He says it feels differently now then it had when he was a soul the first time around.” Nodding for Sam to continue. “And that he's sure he can come back on his own.”

Dean folded his arms and stared straight up at Sam's soul that came back out of the radio. “Sammy, if you're gonna do that, at least get closer to solid ground so I don't end up with your ass crushing me for real this time.”

Sam sparked at him like a retort, but did come back down towards the seat instead of the floor.

Jody lowered her hand to help Dean up onto the space next to Sam and the brothers more or less stared at each other. Now that no one was falling to their second deaths, and everyone was relatively fine, they took in the odd sight of the other from this point of view.

Sam tried to keep himself close to the seat without going through it and recreated what he saw with Dean. Channeling his energies and forcing himself to change. Picturing himself curling up into a tight ball and letting out that same pulse of light Dean made just before he came back. A few sparks burst along the edges and suddenly a form appeared where there was once the ball of light. Even faster then Dean's return to solidity. Sam landed on his upper back and neck with his legs overhead. His legs kicked out from the pain of landing on his neck and his back straightened out next. Sam gracelessly flopped down in a heap on his back with his limbs akimbo.

Dean closed the distance and his hands hovered over Sam's body as his little brother panted through the pain. Arms bent at the elbow and forearms and hands flexing in the air. Feet doing the same a few seconds later. Dean recognized the moves as ones they did all the time during rough falls. Making sure they weren't paralyzed and would be able to fight if necessary. Most monsters loved throwing them into things and they'd need to know if they were still fit enough to go on or if it would just exacerbate the hunt. Taking the other brother from the fight to deal with the injuries.

The fact that they did the moves so often it was instinctual, was depressing, but it helped Dean feel better to know that Sam's ok enough to triage himself. If it were really bad, Sam wouldn't be moving at all.

“It's – it's fine, Dean. Nothing's broke.” Sam wheezed and reached a hand up which Dean grabbed. Hoisting him onto his feet again and checking him over for injuries himself. Ignoring the giants all around them.

Dean pulled him in for a hug and if it lasted a bit long, that was nobody's business but their own. No matter how loud Claire cooed at the sight.

Sam pulled back first with a grin. So grateful that their both good. He told Dean, “When you want to come back, just uh, compress and spark. You know? That feeling when you're...” Sam's free hand waved about in the air. “Man it's so much easier in soul-speak.”

Dean nodded along. Fully understanding that English can't begin to describe what anything is like for a soul.

Sam tried to find the words anyhow, “That feeling of a clenched fist. Like you're ready to jump without moving anywhere. Pull in and then release... but not _everything_. I don't know if we would actually explode for real if we let go too much.”

Dean paled at the implication of that. “Yeah, don't want to go nuclear.” Shaking himself out. He heard Jody gasp and felt the need to explain, “So as I'm sure you know, or maybe you don't...” He trailed off looking up at Castiel briefly before going back to face Jody and Claire. “Human souls are as powerful as a small star or a few nuclear bombs. Like, souls are balls of energy that may seem all powerful, but uh, we can't tap into it too much on purpose. If we use all of that power at once, they'll be nothing left of us. We can kinda- uh, do things with it like you saw earlier with the machines, but half the time it's subconscious.”

Sam cleared his throat, “We're constantly figuring this out so we can't really explain it too well.”

“You're doing a pretty good job so far.” Jody encouraged and remembered to look around the car again for anyone peering in. “I just want to know, are you alright? Both of you?”

Dean was starting to hate hearing that phrase so many times lately. Holding back his initial remark, he said, “We're fine. Can't kill what's already dead.” Shrugging. “You don't have to worry about us.”

It did help calm her down just a fraction, and start breathing normally again.

Claire shifted in her seat and her hand bumped into the take out bag. Smiling widely at the contents and knowing that this was a great way to get Dean's mood back up. Everyone could tell that the hunter was irritated at not knowing what was going on with his own body. Surprises at every turn. At least this was a tried and true way of making him happy.

Claire pulled out one of the four packages and brought it over the edge of the front bench seat, wiggling it in the air on down to their spot. “Glad you got your taste buds back cause I'm not sure if I could finish all this myself.” And set it down. Popping the Styrofoam lid so it flung upwards and out.

Dean walked closer and the sight and smell of the desert had his knees go wobbly. He saw the pleased expression on Claire's face and didn't know what the right response would be for this heavenly gesture. Sam stood next to the container and Dean and reached forward with his hand and swiped a finger though the filling, bringing it to his mouth and humming at how good it tasted.

Dean knew that he couldn't get the appropriate amount of pie standing this far away from it, so he hopped over the three inch lip of the take out container, with some difficulty as it came up to his chest, and both hands dove right into the slice of apple pie. Pulling out a small chunk of gooey spiced apple towards his mouth and ate as much as he could. Moaning sweetly at the flavors exploding on his tongue. Wasting no time at all in grabbing a handful of the flaky crust and scooping up more filling. Leaning back against the inside of the take out container to keep himself from falling over as he devoured the whole thing.

“Lifelong dream.” Dean nearly sang as he made a complete mess of himself. Turning slightly to see Sam reach over for another bit. “Hey, this one's mine, get yer own.” Dean swatted at Sam's hand, getting an upright middle finger in return.

“Oh like you can finish this all.”

“Watch me.” Dean smirked and noisily sucked on his fingers.

Claire brought over another take out container and said, “It just so happens...” and popped the lid on that pie slice next. Dean's eyes went even wider as Sam's slice was bigger then the apple, and Sam smugly strode over to it and claimed it as his own.

Castiel's voice rumbled overhead, musing on the implications of the acts below. “You two are going to have to burn that off later.”

Dean waved him off dismissively and ate as much as shrunken humanly possible. Past an apple slice his muffled voice said, “I'll just zap Sam a few hundred times. No worries!”

“Screw you asshat!” Sam flung a handful of his pie over at Dean who got it in the back.

“No food fighting in the car!” Dean gripped and wiped off his jacket, tasting the glob and admiring that flavor too. “Cas?”

“Hmm?” The angel's smile clearly evident.

“I'm retiring from hunting, man of letters, and from the dating pool. This is all I want to do for the rest of eternity.” His hand smeared and fingers swirled around the spiced apple goo. Making tiny castles out of the slices and flaky crust.

Claire was beaming down at them. “That was $5.76. With tax.” A hand lowered expectantly towards them.

Sam and Dean stared at it and then each other.

“Sure, I got this.” Dean said primly and manifested his wallet from his pants pocket. Waving it in front of himself so the giant could see it up there. “If you can catch it you can have all the money I got plus the credit cards.” He threw the wallet up at her waiting hand, both watching it disintegrate back into soul light and zip into his chest before it landed. “Ah, your generosity is too kind.” Dean bowed and on the downward swoop, licked the sugar from the upper crust. He came to the conclusion pretty quickly, that the more he manifested stuff, the more pie he could eat. So with one hand, he kept pulling out his wallet and dropping it next to himself while his other hand shoveled more pie into his face.

Sam laughed to himself and called it quits when he felt his energy had restored back to normal. Turning into his soul self and back again had drained him a little and he just wanted enough to balance out with a bit of extra energy for later.

Sam noticed the time and said, “So, I think it's about time to take off. Before people start to wonder what everyone's doing sitting in the car outside of the motel.”

Jody agreed. Once more checking the windows for voyeurs and finding none. “I will drive Castiel's truck, while Claire takes my jeep. We'll just head to the bunker the same way we came here.” The others agreed. Sam and Dean knew that if they stayed on the Impala's bench seat, that they'd go flying off the first stop light or unexpected traffic, so they said they'd rather skip the falling part and stay on the floor. It was either that or return to soul form again and loose the ability to talk to anyone.

Cas lowered both pie slices to the floor furthest away from his side so they were less likely to get underfoot during the long journey. Thankful that these types of foods did not need refrigeration to stay edible. Jody made up a little cloth nest for the boys using the same t-shirt that they'd had as a blanket the night before.

They knew better then to chide her for the mother henning treatment. She was only looking out for them and they had to admit that having the shirt the way it was, was kinda like a couch that went full circle for them. They could sprawl out and sleep or perch on the side to talk with Cas without rolling all over the place whenever the car turned or stopped. It was perfect.

The three vehicles got back onto the road, Jody leading, Claire in the middle with Cas bringing up the rear. Both adults making sure Claire was protected from front and back, and that she wasn't going to miss a turnoff or get left behind on accident if she had car trouble. At first she protested, but Dean said that if the Impala breaks down, he and Sam would just power it up themselves. It made the teen laugh at the ridiculous image and change her tune. The trip back home was much happier then before.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some comments and kudos ;)
> 
> BTW! I think I want to do some art for this coming October - Inktober? I want to draw something new everyday - the brothers from the show, if anyone has any screenshots they'd like to see recreated. I stink at coming up with stuff from scratch but I can redraw existing pics if you send me the link :)  
> could be from conventions, the series or from their facebook/twitter and stuff.  
> must be characters from supernatural - preferable Sam and Dean and Cas.  
> Or! Anything at all from my other fics, Dragon!Dean with the dragons involved. I like drawing Dragon!Dean!


	20. Moonlight Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives at the bunker at last and Dean and Cas head out to pick up a victory meal from the local restaurant. Unfortunately, the two run into some trouble on the way back.

Chapter Twenty:

Moonlight Special

 

 

The group made it back to the bunker with only a few rest stops, and by that time the sun had already started going down. Jody decided to stay the night at the bunker with Claire, at the insistence of Sam, Dean, and Castiel. Playing host was the least they could do for all the help. Claire was trying to hide her excitement at being able to explore the place more thoroughly. It was huge and Gothic and just this side of weird enough to ping her interests. Certainly one of the more memorable places to stay for an impromptu slumber party. Better then all those foster homes she'd been shoved into when her life had gone rough. This time she was surrounded with people she loved and trusted. Knowing that she was safer here then anywhere else if she had to be away from her home with Alex and Jody. She wondered if Alex would find this 'bat cave' just as interesting, and decided to send a few snapshots to her to show off where she gets to stay the night.

Sam saw how Claire's eyes kept wandering around the place. Grinning to himself at the familiar look he'd had on his own face when they first came here. Claire might not be into history and lore, but this place did have something for everybody and he was sure that the teen would find something to mess around with. Might as well give her permission to explore before the desire built up and she snuck off on her own anyway. Sam called up to her with his hands cupped around his mouth to help amplify his small voice, “Things that have a post it note with the word 'NO' written on it should be avoided unless you want to be cursed into next week. Otherwise go have some fun! Just don't _break_ anything!”

Claire startled and tripped on her feet for a second at the sound of the seemingly disembodied voice, till she located the Winchester standing on a nearby table. She started shaking her head and folding her arms tightly around herself. A look of denial that she was planing on anything mischievous was not fooling anyone. Jody glanced between the two and saw Sam over exaggerate his arm movements, shooing her into exploring. The grin visible even from the distance.

Claire tossed her hair behind her shoulder and shrugged noncommittally. But only after a few moment's hesitation, she did meander away and they could hear doors open and close. Sam trusted her not to get into trouble and respect their personal privacy. She knew better then most about the dangers in messing with supernatural things, but not everything there was dangerous. And, it wouldn't hurt for her to familiarize herself with the layout of the place should something happen.

She had said she wanted to be a hunter, so this was a good way for her to learn the background details of the job. Researching from the best sources around. Sam would be there for questions if she had any, and wanted her to feel comfortable with asking.

Across the library, Castiel was considering what to make for supper. He started to head to the kitchen with Dean, as the small hunter hitched a ride in his chest pocket to see what they had left for food. Dean frowned at the cupboards and found it lacking anything worthy of a victory meal. After all, they did set off to regain solid forms, and this was kind of a success. In any case, he wanted to help feed his extra big family and his supplies at the moment were inadequate at best.

While Dean and Cas were busy, and Claire was off somewhere, Sam asked Jody for a lift and they headed off to one of the rooms that was converted into a kind of lounge since it's slightly larger then the other rooms. Sam instructed Jody how to work their modified sound system in there to work properly. Most houses have wooden walls, not concrete so whenever they'd previously played movies, it echoed weirdly and sounded all wrong. They used a few tricks learned from youtube videos to set it all up to compensate for the odd space. Neither hunter wanted to come home after a long day in some gross spooky basement to another spooky sounding basement. Even if that's essentially what the bunker was... they wanted it to feel more like a normal house so adapted their most used rooms to feel more homey.

Shortly after moving in, they'd dragged a curbside couch from a nearby neighborhood to make it more comfortable. All too often, Sam had had to make do with pushing two of the library's chairs together to have his feet up. They'd then decided to raid numerous electronics and movies from a recently ganked monster's house since, hey, they weren't going to need it anymore while their ass is in purgatory. It would be a waste otherwise since no one would miss the murderous critter or its impressive stash of films and various electronic devices. One stop shop.

While setting up the TV and player, Sam soon discovered that if he wasn't careful, he could disrupt the signals between the remote and systems so he had to stand back and shout instructions from the back of the couch while Jody held the remote closer to the units. They pulled out a few movies to decide on once the other guys get back from making dinner. Right now, they started up a random episode of Game of Thrones for some background noise.

Back in the kitchen, Dean called up from the angel's pocket. “Hey, Cas!”

Castiel peered down at his chest towards the shrunken hunter who was leaning forward and waving a hand at the cupboards. He kept his voice soft for tiny ears, “Yes, Dean?”

“I'm not all that impressed with what we got left. Not even I can make something decent from this stuff. I think we need to do some take out. There's a place nearby that we sometimes go to. I can show ya.” Dean said and turned in place to view Castiel's face above him easier. The sight of it was a little weird. Mostly for how _normal_ it was becoming to see the underside of Cas's chin more then the top of his head, like from before, when Dean was alive and taller then most everyone in the room.

Castiel nodded and closed the cupboards before heading back to the lounge to get everyone's order. Thankfully the consensus was that fried chicken sounded amazing and they couldn't wait for it to come. Dean was practically bouncing in place. He hadn't had good fried chicken for awhile and wondered what that would even be like at this size. Cas went back to their vehicles that were stored in the garage. Jody's jeep was left out front when they'd thought the ladies weren't staying long. It would be safe there overnight and it seemed like an unnecessary hassle to move it into the garage only to move it back out again in the morning.

Cas was about to take his truck when Dean insisted on the Impala. Dean said that it was ok for him to drive it so long as he's with him at the time to enjoy the ride and keep him from driving recklessly. Cas bit back a long suffering sigh at that. He was a good driver. _Most_ of the time. He's still learning how the infernally slow oily machines worked, so sue him if he doesn't remember to use his blinker every time, or fill up the tires. He's traveled by wing for far longer than the Earth even existed. In a blink of an angel eye, cars will be replaced with something else equally confounding. Memorizing details seemed like a moot point sometimes but it made his dear friend Dean happy to teach, so he'd learn all about it.

Castiel held his hand up to the pocket to steady Dean as he got behind the wheel and they were on their way. Thankfully, he didn't have to pull either of the brothers into his vessel to cross the perimeter in and out of the bunker now, so long as they were in their solid form. They guessed that was intentional and thanks to something Crowley put in. Neither brother wanted to go back to the floating glow clouds too often for fear of being stuck like that, so they agreed to only do it in emergency... or if they felt like it.

Streetlights flickered overhead as Cas drove into town. Dean had his arms folded over the lip of the pocket to keep himself up high enough to see out and around. The restaurant was buzzing with customers and Dean realized belatedly that it was already the weekend. Time was moving oddly for him and he dismissed it without another thought. Worrying about time and days seemed pretty damned trivial now that he's dead. The hunter's life rarely had a set schedule. They went where the monsters were and did the job. They'd sometimes forget what day of the week it was before they lost their bodies, so worrying about it now was dumb. They had even less of a reason to remember the days of the week, or if it was a quarter till 2. If it became a problem, he'd mention it. But for now, Cas was handling things well enough for all three of them.

Cas cleared his throat when he approached the front door and Dean was reminded to drop down into the pocket so he wouldn't be seen. The line wound around half of the restaurant with every seat taken in the place with customers mmm-ing at the good food. Dean bounced a little with anticipation and only remembered to knock it off at another clearing of the throat behind him. Dean dropped to sit at the bottom seam, and he scowled upwards at the light chuckle that that earned him from the giant.

He debated taking a pot shot at the wide chest with his tiny gun, knowing it wouldn't do much if anything at all to the angel but it might earn him a time out in a less desirable pocket so he folded his arms double hard at the unfairness of it all. Even if it didn't even tickle Cas, someone might hear the tiny gunshot and notice the awkward angel even more then before. Dean consoled himself with the idea of getting some good old fashioned fried chicken soon enough so he kept his hands to himself and waited.

It was finally Cas's turn at the front of the line and Dean kept still as possible while the deep voice had to rumble louder for regular humans to hear it. The vibrations shook Dean inside the pocket and he leaned into the chest just a bit, turning carefully so that it was now giving him a kind of warm back massage. Thankful that Cas had to clarify every aspect of their order for his own satisfaction because it meant more of those soothing vibrating rumbles on his back.

Serving their friends dinner was treated with high priority now, when there was no real dangers around. Castiel had so very few friends in the world left, he didn't want to upset any of them. He'd had tens of thousands of siblings before... but that was _then_. He wont loose these few as well. His heart couldn't take it if he lost even one more. Even if it was foolhardy to believe that they'd leave him if he got a simple food order wrong, he often felt that he had to keep them happy and satisfied to keep them in his life at all. Pointing out to Dean a few times that he always came when called. No matter what.

Dean peered up at how Cas was making the order and it sounded a little off to him. Not just at how important he was taking this task, but slowly coming to the realization that this is how Cas interacts with strangers when the brothers weren't right next to him to take over the interactions with humans. He then was slipping into his 'Steve' persona as he stood off to the side next to the condiment station after he'd paid. Cas waited for just a half minute before he started to clean and rearrange the cubbies that held the different supplies. People would come over and he'd grin and help assist them in grabbing the prepackaged honey or sugar or BBQ sauces. Handing over plastic wrapped cutlery and napkins to the befuddlement of the strangers. Dean didn't know if he wanted to rib Cas for it or not as he carefully peered up and out of the pocket to see what the hell his angel was doing. A pang of guilt unexpectedly hit Dean for dragging Cas away from his 'Gas N' Sip' job where the guy was happy and satisfied with his human life. Clearly Cas liked helping people. Even with these small favors.

Cas jolted when their number was called. Dean stumbled inside the pocket and quickly ducked back down as his giant friend gathered his over sized bag of food. The newly sorted condiment station was cleaner then it had been all day.

“Grab a crapton of honey!” Dean called up and felt Castiel jerk again. The head turning this way and that to see if anyone else heard Dean's voice.

Castiel frowned down at his pocket but dutifully collected up a sizable chunk of honey and frowned doubly hard at how much of it was 'fake'. He'll have to pick up the real deal the next time they go shopping, or just collect more in the woods from the wild bee hives he visited in the area. That decided, he left the store to the sound of the door's jingling bells and strode towards the Impala.

“Dean, you're going to have to be more careful about raising your voice in public.” He gently reminded more then reprimanded.

“No one heard me.” Dean replied somewhat confidently. In reality he totally forgot since he usually had to speak up to be heard, practically yelling at times.

Castiel got into the car and asked. “Did you want to come out?”

“Nah, we'll be home soon enough.” Dean shrugged. He lifted himself up to look out of the windshield and noticed a couple of people lingering around the restaurant. One was looking at the car while the other's head angled up and away. The pair seemed normal enough to regular people walking in and out of the store, but Dean learned to heed his instincts. “Cas.” His voice low and deadly serious.

Cas straightened up in his seat. Clearing his throat to let Dean know he heard and was listening.

“Eleven o'clock. The guy and girl. Friends?”

Cas angled the mirror to give him the excuse to look up in the couple's general direction without making it look like he was studying them. “They're not angels, or demons.” He muttered softly as ever. Squinting hard as he now pretended to check himself out in the mirror. “I'm not sensing anything from them.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief but didn't feel Cas relax after that statement. “Wait. That's a bad thing?”

“Very.” Cas intoned and turned on the car, his blade slipped out of his sleeve discretely and laid in his lap. Cas calmly pulled out of the parking lot and noticed that both of them bolted for their own vehicle. “ _Damn_.”

“What's going on?” Dean yelled up, trying to be heard over the sound of Cas accelerating.

“They're following us.” Cas said and turned down a side street. “I'll lure them away from the public.”

“Cas! Please be careful, man.” Dean pulled out his gun, highly doubting it would do anything against whatever the fuck was chasing them but he had to do _something!_

Dean saw the streets fly by at increasing speeds. “Dude! You have to drive slower or else you'll be pulled over. I saw a cop car not one block back! We don't need Johnny-law on our ass as well!”

Cas huffed in answer and turned another corner, making Dean accidentally fall down to the corner of the pocket. A muffled curse coming up. “Apologies, Dean.” Castiel said and it didn't seem like it was for the jostling.

“For wha-?” Dean startled at the sight of three fingers suddenly diving into his space. They pinched around whatever they could which ended up being his left arm and half his torso as he was gracelessly hauled up from the pocket way too fast. “Cas!” Dean yelped at the rough handling and he caught a glimpse of his friend's face. Cas looked upset but the world twisted around Dean too quickly for him to study that look further.

“Stay out of sight. I got this.” Castiel said and leaned to the right side to drop Dean under the bench seat. Cas sat up straight again and was forced to turn again or else hit heavy traffic on the way out of town. The car following them was gaining on them. “Sorry!” Cas lost composure when he slammed on the brakes. A dog had bolted alongside then in front of the Impala, catching him off guard. He narrowly avoided it as the large black Impala skid and spun on the side street's gravel. Rocks kicking up everywhere and banging on the underside of the car. To the shrunken hunter, it sounded like bombs going off all around him.

Dean was thrown to the far side of the floor well, shaken and hurt. The bags of food slipping and falling not three inches away from where he landed, spilling out on the floor. Another swerve and things went flying, crashing open and contents spilling everywhere. Dean narrowly avoided getting squashed by the container of coleslaw as it burst open and splattered at his side as the car kept on swerving to stay on the road and not in someone's house. Dean was thrown again when Cas over-corrected the wheel when their street turned into a T intersection. The Impala finally hit a shallow ditch and the momentum was lost to the rise in the ditch on the other side. The food was scattered everywhere and Dean pushed himself away from a drumstick that was twice his overall size before it rolled his way again.

Dean was glad he was already dead because he never would have survived any of that.

The car behind screeching to a halt behind them, still on the road, keeping the Impala from backing up. Doors flung open in the other car and Dean scrambled to see what was going on overhead from underneath the passenger side of the bench seat. Cas was hunched over. A dribble of blood falling from his head. “No... no no no. _Fuck_. _Cas_?” Dean tried getting to his feet but they didn't want to work. His head swam but he could hear the two outside of his car, pacing and circling around it like predators.

The warning Cas gave him to stay out of sight sounded pretty fucking tempting right about now. But he couldn't just _abandon_ Cas! Dean got to his shaky feet and tripped over himself a couple of times as he half ran half climbed over to Cas's shoes. The driver's side was angled higher then his own so he figured the ditch must be on the other side of the road, halfway facing oncoming traffic. Someone's bound to see them and know instantly something went terribly wrong.

At this point, Dean's not sure if he would ask for stranger's help in this situation. Civilians don't know how to deal with the supernatural, but at the same time, Cas is _hurt_ and needs _help!_

Dean climbed over the slight hill in the floor well's center and saw the truck sized feet angled on the sides like the angel was just dropped into the seat above. The perspective flipping around him when one of the legs shifted overhead and landed heavily behind him, dragging around in a half circle. Dean had to jump back or be squashed by it. He saw Castiel fumble around his lap and the blade fell off, landing between the door and the seat. Its glinting edge showing that it had its sharp end up and Dean saw that Cas was blindly reaching down.

“Cas! Wait!” Dean shouted and started running again. But he was too late, Cas accidentally cut a long gash in his hand on the blade and hissed in pain. Grace light seeping out of the wound for a second and nearly blinded Dean as he raced towards the bleeding blue light. “Cas!” Dean dodged another foot as it scraped along the floor. The weight of it thumping down made the ground he ran on jump and buck enough to make him stumble.

The giant was merely shifting in his seat to see down better. Cas finally locked eyes with him sprawled out. Blue eyes wide, but before he could do anything, the driver's side door was yanked open. Apparently the monsters had enough waiting and wanted their prize.

Dean saw the first man grab Cas's arm and yank hard, pulling him half out of the car in the one move. Dean dove forwards towards Castiel's injured hand and forces himself to try and change into his soul form to get inside the vessel. Cas's fingers reaching desperately towards him even as the monsters tug him on out. Cas's other hand grabs the steering wheel and anchors him to the car just long enough for Dean to make it that last foot running and leaping into Cas's waiting hand.

Castiel holds him in a secure fist as he's dragged forcefully of the Impala and thrown to the ground. He tucks the hand Dean's curled up in towards his chest as one of the monsters brutally kicks at his sides. Another grabs his blade and makes a long cut along the angel's back to make him compliant. Cas doesn't want to scream but a sharp groan makes it's way past his lips. His head tucks down and he begs Dean to understand that as bad as it's going to get for him, it would be even worse for Dean if he's found. Letting Dean go now is as good as a death sentence for the small hunter.

Dean's panicking. He can't help it. Everything is loud, and huge, and fast, and fucking _terrifying._ Holding his breath to slow his heart rate, he tries to get back into hunter mode. Think about this all from outside of a clenched fist with it's owner being beaten all around him. His giant friend being at the mercy of not just the two monsters but others that joined in out of nowhere. Each impact on the body jolting him violently. Dean's amazed that Cas's grip on him hasn't tightened or released all the way, and has somehow kept him safe so far. Dean knows that his safe spot wont last forever for how hard his protector is being kicked and punched. Dean has to get inside the vessel if he wants to survive for even a minute after Cas inevitably looses consciousness and is unable to pull the soul in. Angels can't be possessed by human souls without permission.

Dean suddenly remembers what Sam said about changing their own forms and it's pretty easy to imagine himself as a clenched fist just before he releases the energy and is changed into his soul form. Dean doesn't even have enough time to congratulate himself for the accomplishment before he's feeling that familiar pull on his entire being.

Cas feels the slight weight disappearing and being replaced by the soul's warmth and wastes no time at all before he's pulling Dean safely and quickly into the cut in his hand. Faster then ever before since there was a ready made entrance cut into his vessel. Simultaneously, Cas is rolled onto his back and ground into the dirt by a heavy booted foot. Small rocks make their way into the wound on his back and he gasps in pain.

Dean's soul is frantically trying to figure out where to go first, how he can help from the inside.

The soul can't really tell what's going on, but he follows the sharp red pulses of color and feeling towards what ends up to be Cas's back. He finds the whole area torn like a gash through the wide space. A massive and jarring rip that obviously wasn't there before, and Dean's heading straight towards it before he even realizes what he's doing. His own energy is swirling angrily at the monsters for doing this heinous injury to his best friend.

The wound being seen from inside the vessel is indescribable. A wrongness that permeates the whole area, making Dean feel just as hurt and angry. His soul reaches towards the long tear and surprisingly starts to heal it. His own soul merging with Cas's limited grace and the tear starts to close around him. He's small inside the vessel but apparently he's just enough as he trails his healing touch all along the fifty foot gash, turning and doing it again. It takes several passes and he's feeling tired but seeing progress so he keeps at it.

Dean can feel Cas groan and gasp out a word and knows that it's not meant for the monsters, but they're hearing it outside anyway.

“ _Stop_.”

So desperate. Cas doesn't want Dean to heal him. He doesn't want this small soul to give up his energy just for him. But Dean's not listening. Cas can't really stop him now that he's so weak. The small soul keeps smoothing over the tear until it's a thin line and then that too seals up and then it's just gone. The area is still red tinged and feels painful to be in, but no longer as agonizing to behold. Dean starts to make his way to the hand he'd come in at, intending to heal that next but his sense of direction is starting to get fuzzy. Like he's disoriented and the bad kind of drunk.

Castiel wills the soul to stop. To stay put. Stay away from his injuries to conserve his strength. He'll need it later when the monsters make it to wherever they're taking them. Dean has to stay hidden and safe so he can escape when the attention is off. It's his only chance.

Two of the monsters hoist Cas up between them, not noticing that his back wound is mostly healed because his coat is still torn and bloodied enough to hide the newly sealed skin. Cas's own grace is buzzing the same way as before when Sam and Dean had given him energy to fly away from the reapers. Only this time it's more focused and direct. Dean somehow knew how to use his energy to heal an angel. Cas didn't think it was possible without an angel's intervention or guidance. In fact, he had been trying to keep Dean _from_ healing him at all, and the little soul _still_ managed to do it.

However, it seemed to have drained him of energy. Castiel felt Dean fumble along down. Aiming for his hand he guessed, and the soul was easily held in place when Dean neared his heart and slowed for a short rest. The soul's strength waning past the angel's own, just enough for the angel to get the upper hand in holding him still. It was terribly upsetting to keep Dean held against his will, but Cas was grateful he wont be in any more danger of loosing himself to the task. Figuratively _or_ literally.

Cas had to put his entire attention to the undertaking, so he didn't notice that he was being hauled inside the back of a truck. These unidentified monsters were prepared. The entire inside of the covered truck bed had containment sigils for angels. He was powerless to escape on his own. The monsters must have shielded themselves as well because even now, Cas only had a faint clue what they were.

He could still hold onto Dean though, so he kept him still next to his heart. Hands pressing to his own chest as if that would help. Once the other's had closed the rear hatch, Cas murmured to Dean. “Stay still, Dean. My hand is already healing with my grace. Please stop. You don't need to heal me anymore.”

Dean pushed against the invisible hold. Struggling to get free.

Cas felt guilty for it the longer Dean wriggled and squirmed. Too weak to do more.

“I'll release you when you promise to stop healing me.” Cas kept his voice barely above a whisper. Dean pushed harder for a few seconds before calming. His light still spun with agitation but Cas knew that that wasn't going to go away. It was the most Dean could do to settle down under the circumstances so Cas let go and felt Dean shift around between his lungs and heart. As if he was debating on going back on his word. Eventually he went up towards Cas's head and the angel smiled to himself. Feeling the small soul approach his eyes. He felt the hesitation and question coming from his charge.

Castiel nodded to himself and Dean must have felt it from within because he came up the rest of the way to look out at the world beyond. Cas felt Dean's feelings go from anger to battle calm. Assessing the situation they're in. The truck kept on driving. The hold they were in was nearly pitch black but enough light leaked in to see most of the sigils.

Cas whispered, “Sam was able to speak with my voice. You can too, but please, keep it down.” Cas instructed and let Dean figure out how to speak. It took a few tries before Dean managed it. Mostly it was finding the right frequency when everything Dean's seeing is making him want to yell and curse.

“Cas...” Dean said and stopped. Cas was amused at Dean's startled emotions. The borrowed vocal chords sounding more similar to Castiel's but with that vaguely southern accent taking over a little. Different then when Sam took over. Shaking himself out, so to speak, Dean tried again. “Cas. What happened?”

“You have to be quieter then that, Dean. I believe we are heading somewhere.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean huffed but at a diminished tone. “Do you know what they are?”

“I don't know for certain, but I think they might be shape shifters.”

“What makes you say that?”

“In the scuffle, I might have torn part of the elbow's skin off.”

“Lovely.” Dean cleared his throat. “So what happened to your blade? That get taken?”

“It must have. Or it's still back inside the Impala.”

“If they touched my baby...”

“Dean. Settle. We need to figure out a way out of here.”

“Right. Ok.” Dean 'breathed' for a moment. Cas turned his head around the tight area to help Dean assess their situation. “Ok, I have an idea. Let me out of your vessel.”

“I'm not sure that's wise.”

“Just do it, we might not have much time.”

Cas sighed heavily and made Dean exit his vessel from his open mouth since the soul was closer there anyways. Dean shivered in the air once he saw just how he left as the large mouth closed again behind him.

Castiel belatedly realized that for beings as small as the brothers, that a mouth is probably not the best way of getting in and out of a body without causing some form of mental trauma. Being small enough to be consumed when in their physical states is distressing in the best of times...

Dean backed up from Castiel who had turned his slumped body to his side to better view the floating soul in the confined space. Now that he had some light, he saw that the truck hold was completely bare of anything usable. It had been stripped of all debris and all that was left was the spray painted sigils coating every surface. He felt the sigils in his whole body, pressing him in from all sides in a very uncomfortable way. Dean approached the back hatch and tried to go through the metal.

Cas didn't think about why Dean would go over there till it was too late and Dean's soul made contact with the barrier and he watched helplessly as Dean's soul light flare up and dim dramatically as he fell from the air like a bird hitting a wall. Dean landed on the floor and ran into the barrier's containment spells _again_. Cas threw himself closer to catch and hold Dean in his hands before the poor soul hit it a third devastating time. Dean was barely more then a soft flicker of light in his hands.

The driver and passenger of the truck banged noisily on the conjoining wall shouting death threats to Cas if he tried anything stupid like that again. Cas ignored them. Cradling Dean in his hands. The light dimmed so far, he was worried it would just blow out. Dean stirred and brightened a bit and seemed to snap out of it for only a moment. Not enough energy to float just yet and that by itself was distressing.

Whatever Dean had planned, certainly didn't account for the sigils keeping him contained right alongside Cas. He could practically hear Dean say, 'Well that sucked' going by his feeble twisting of the wisps. The soul light glowed softly and pooled in Cas's hands as if he'd melted. He could tell that Dean was trying to become corporeal again by the two sparks he mustered up, but it wasn't working for him. He was just too drained.

The truck slowed a little as if entering a long driveway, and Castiel realized they'd run out of time. He braced himself with a foot against one wall and the back hatch as the truck made a few sharp turns. All the while holding Dean carefully, thumbs stroking the light tendrils that drifted up from the main pool of weak dimmed light. Dean's soul resembled the vapor over a bowl of dry ice more then his former brilliant and defiant self. Now he just looked sad and defeated. Castiel's chest ached at the sight.

The angel had only one option right now, so he pulled Dean back into his vessel even as the weak protests filtered up from his hands that came from the act. “I'll keep you safe.” He whispered the promise and a second later the rear tailgate was yanked opened. Something flashed before Cas's eyes and he passed out before he had a chance to block Dean from the blast.

Dean didn't have any choice in what was going on. Castiel's vessel had been thrumming with emotions and will and then suddenly, it all dropped like someone had cut his strings. All that was left moving was the basic functions. At least, he hoped it meant Cas was still alive and whole. The vibrant colors that made up the vessel's insides dulled to nearly slate gray with only hints of the former colors still drifting around him. Reverse Wizard of Oz for the soul inside. Dean figured out pretty quick that Cas must have been knocked out or something out there. He just wasn't sure if it was a physical influence or spell induced. Or hell, if something took over Cas's vessel and his best friend had left the building entirely. No idea if Cas was just sleeping or in a coma, or if Cas would ever wake up from it, or what Dean could do about _any of it to help._

Fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! I was doing Inktober and I'd started a new job and it's taking up most of my time lately. I'll try and get out new chapters faster then that month and a half hiatus! Thanks for keeping with this story and I promise more devastating angst in the future :) If you want a hint, check out my pics for Inktober... One of them gave me an idea...  
> Comments and Kudos are love! cost nothing and mean everything to writers!


	21. A Light Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is stuck inside Cas's vessel, struggling to figure out what's going on out there.

Chapter Twenty One:

A Light Headache

 

 

Dean hurried up to Cas's head again but his eyes were closed. Fuck. Dean tried so hard to force them open again, but he was still feeling extremely weak and dizzy. He suspected that he wouldn't have been able to make any part of Cas's vessel move at all without the angel's awareness and assistance. Dean even went a bit further up to tentatively touch on Cas's brain, intending to send a spark or two up there to jolt him awake, but found the entire environment far too confusing to behold. Dean shook himself out and dropped back down to the familiar and only sort-of-trippy part of the body below. He's known angels were different but _damn_. Even passed out or whatever the hell it is that induced this unconscious state, it didn't stop Cas's head from throbbing in pain from an epic headache. A headache that was busy morphing reality in the form of colors around like cosmic hued finger paints on wet cotton balls. Only weirder then that.

And Dean thought that seeing the world as a free floating nearly all seeing soul was strange.

It was comforting to note that even though the rest of the vessel went nearly black and white, Cas was most likely still inside of it. Just kind of... trapped... in his head. Dean could relate to the feeling since he's trapped here too until Cas wakes up and lets him out. He stopped blaming his friend for the decision to hold him against his will like this. Cas undoubtedly saved his life by doing it. It still didn't feel great to know that he needed the protection, especially since it cost Cas the upper hand in that fight. If he didn't have to worry about the small person, he might have gotten a few good licks in. Maybe even smite one or two before he went down.

Dean vowed to himself to save Cas. Big dude didn't deserve this shit.  
Since the brain was a no fly zone, Dean made his way to an ear and pressed himself as close as possible to the inner ear canal to hear what was going on better. Sounds reverberated across the ear drum regardless of Castiel's awareness, and he figured out how to use his own freaky talents to parse what was being said, or what other sounds were going on out there from just the vibrations. At first it was similar to a thumping party going on in another room, where the conversations and actions were all muffled and mixed together, but they gradually started sounding like words and actions to him.

Someone with a nasally voice said something about a holding pen... how big one needed to be and what was drawn on it. Another guy then asking if angels needed to eat and if they should put some water in a bowl for him. Not all the words were easy to interpret. Dean figured that the discussion wasn't really meant for Cas's ears, but the soul could sort of hear it all the same.

Dean remembered Cas mentioning his great hearing a few years back when he and Sam were having a supposedly private conversation and Cas oh so helpfully informed them, “You know I can hear you both. I am a celestial being.” Through the closed kitchen door. It made for an awkward revelation and Dean soon learned to watch what he said if Cas was even inside the same building as them.

A sharp loud clank made Dean jolt back from the ear for a second. Pressing himself back up against the inner ear drum again to hear water in a bowl or something being brought closer. Then the sound of rough skin on skin contact and Dean suppressed a shiver at that. Guessing that whoever brought the water was holding Cas's head in their hands. A flash of light behind him had him racing over there towards the eyes again but they were closed right after the dude lifted up Cas's eyelids. Probably checking his pupils with a flashlight. Dean cursed to himself for missing his chance to see out.

The voice beyond mumbled to itself but Dean heard anyway, “Did they have to damage the body so much? It's gonna take days for it to heal enough from that. Tsk.” The sounds of thumps were heard and Dean distantly felt the massive vessel thump and shift along with it. The guy was moving Cas's limbs. It was jarring to remember that outside of the massive skyscraper sized space he's in, that Cas is still the same size as normal humans. The rough voice continued on as the body was re-positioned, “Least they could have done was tie it up properly.” A few more thumps and then the guy muttered, “Amateurs.”

Dean heard the clack of shoes move around to the other side of Cas's body so he raced towards that ear to pick up every bit of sound. He kinda wished Cas wasn't as big as a building on the inside to him because he missed the first part of the next sentence while trying to situate himself next to that ear drum and canal. “... for him. Lucky to break even.”

The hell? Dean heard the water slosh around and something was being wrung out of excess water going by the splash and drips on a hard floor. A scrape of cloth against stubble was amplified as close as it was and Dean felt a mix between grateful that Cas was being cleaned up, and anger that this mystery guy had his hands on Cas at all. Then that angry feeling intensified at the fact that Cas needed to be cleaned up in the first place.

The cleaning didn't stop at Cas's face, and Dean felt rage roil inside him when he heard clothing shift and knew that Cas's coat and suit jacket were removed. Patting sounds of the guy checking his best friend over for other weapons and muttering about how little cash he had in his wallet. The name Novak being said aloud told Dean that much. There weren't many that knew about Jimmy Novak being the original owner of the first vessel. This version of the vessel was made by God specifically for Castiel when the original human body was blown to smithereens. Dean wondered if all angels looked like Cas does on the inside or if this was just the product of God's doing as a favor to Cas. Rebuilding the same house from old diagrams but with better materials.

Sounds of things being removed from the general vicinity brought Dean back to the present. He heard more talk about an auction that was going to be held. At some point someone else had joined the space and then the two spoke in another language after that. A mass of growls and grunts more then words but apparently the creatures out there had no word of their own for the few English ones sprinkled into their chat.

Growl, grunt, grumble, sigil, growl, growl, auction, grumble, pizza, growl... And on like that like they were talking about business as usual. And apparently dinner plans.

A metal door opened nearby, echoing in the space, and closed with a clank that reverberated in the still air. Heavy footsteps fading out to nothing. Dean stayed next to the ear for another moment to make sure he wasn't going to miss anything. But the silence stayed and all he could hear was Cas's labored breathing in the still air. Dean drifted around the head space, wondering if Cas would feel him there like before and wake up if stayed long enough.

Dean mused over the things he'd heard while he paced around from one ear to the other, making a stop at the eyes in case Cas lifted a lid. He was dimly aware of his strength slowly returning to him, and worried that he was stealing the energy from Cas. He couldn't exactly stop himself, it was just what was happening beyond his control. He hoped that it was one of those mutual benefit things Cas was talking about days ago. Like two people sharing body heat on a cold day instead of freezing alone.

Dean pushed his own needs aside to think about what he'd heard.

Something about breaking even. An auction. Wait... These bastards couldn't be talking about _selling_ Cas... could they?

Dean remembered the last auction he'd been to. The one where Plutus was trying to sell off one of God's tablets to the highest bidder. Those bastards had no problem throwing in his friend, the prophet, Kevin Tran, in to sweeten the pot. So it wasn't unheard of that someone out there might want to purchase a living angel. They were lucky that Dean hadn't heard one word of Cas's name or his own. So these guys likely had no idea _who_ they had in here. Just that they had an angel.

Dean knew that if _they_ knew, the price for Cas's head would skyrocket. There were so many people, creatures, and angels, out there that are pissed at Cas for any number of reasons. Having him packed up and ready to be sold to the highest bidder made Dean's rescue job just that much harder. It was little comfort that no one there seemed to have any idea that he was inside the vessel at all. He held onto that factoid as the one ace in the hole. If he could get out of this vessel, figure out a way to go through the warding on the walls that keep Cas inside this, cage or whatever, then he could theoretically find the keys to the door, become solid enough to grab them and return to Cas and somehow unlock the door so Cas can escape. Figuring out how he's going to be able to lift the keys up to a lock that's probably 3 feet off the ground while he's only 4 inches tall is just one of the problems he's going to have to deal with. But dammit he's going to do whatever it takes. He just needs to get out of Cas first.

Dean hoped that Sam and the others would figure out what happened and be on the way to saving them before this 'auction' happened. There may be a lot of cool shit at the bunker, but they still hadn't found a room with the ten tons of Dwarven gold yet. Much as Dean has tried searching.

And Sam. That kid must be having kittens right about now.

 

 

Jody was getting worried. She checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes and got up to start pacing around the room. They were on their third episode and still no sign of the others. Sam didn't seem all that concerned until he saw how upset Jody was getting.

“What's wrong?” He called up from his seat on the back of the couch.

Claire took notice too from where she was draped over an armchair that she claimed as her own.

Jody frowned and pulled out her phone, no messages or missed calls. Looking over to Sam again and firming her lips. Claire sat up straight and reached blindly for her phone next. Guessing why Jody was worried when she saw just how much time passed from when Cas and Dean left till now.

Sam's confused gaze went back and forth at the silent conversation between the ladies. “What?”

Jody squinted at Sam and said, “It's been too long.”

“Has it?” Sam looked truly confused at that. Peering around the room as if that would give him the answer.

“Yes.” Jody's frown deepened. “You didn't know?”

Sam shrugged, turning to Claire. A realization hit him and he said with a glazed look. “Oh, right. Uh, yeah.” He rubbed at his head. Turning back to Jody. “Dean and I have had trouble with time since we, uh, since we died. It seems to go by without us knowing. How long has it been?”

“Hours.

“What?!” Sam shot to his feet. “The restaurant is fifteen minutes away! _Tops_!” He started to jog towards Jody. “Somethings wrong. Something happened!” His voice getting tenser by the second. “We gotta go. Gotta go right now. Something happened to them. No way in hell would it take fuckin' _hours_ to go grab some food from there. _They're in trouble_.” Sam reached the end of the couch but there was still a distance from it towards Jody. Sam leaned over the edge and debated jumping.

“Whoa!” Jody darted forward with her hands cupped in a bowl. Phone dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. “Sam?! You can't just go leaping off furniture!”

“They're in trouble!” Sam gave as an explanation and suddenly there was a burst of bright light and Sam was now a floating sparking soul. The small cloud of light took just a second to realize what he'd done before the soul bolted from the room right through the walls towards the front door of the bunker. The sounds of lights bursting down the way alerted the sheriff and teen where Sam currently was and they ran from the room to try and catch up.

“Sam wait!” Jody shouted when she saw the ball of light zip back and forth in front of the door to the outside on the upper landing. Clearly trying to figure out how to open it on his own with the warding keeping him in.

“Wait up!” Jody grabbed her keys and coat, leaving the rest of the overnight stuff they'd brought in on the library table. Claire was hot on her heels throwing her jacket on as well. “No, Claire, you're staying here.” She pointed a stern finger back the way they came. She then raised her hand to stop the teen from protesting about it. “If something is strong enough to hurt an angel, I don't want you anywhere near it.”

“I can help!”

“Yes, you can. By staying here by the phone in case they come back or call. Sam's laptop is over there, I want you to check out the police reports for tonight and keep monitoring it. I need you to do this for me. We're going out to search, but you'll probably be the one to actually find them.” She grabbed a firm hold of Claire's shoulders and squeezed. “Can you do this?”

Claire's eyes watered but she nodded firmly. Gaze going up to the soul that was frantically searching for any way past the door. Noticing for the first time that since the brothers died, they'd become far more emotionally driven then before. Sam would need Jody to keep him centered and focused rather then leaping head first into danger.

Claire pat Jody's shoulder in turn and strode back to the table to boot up the laptop. The hunter in her flaring up and taking control. Living with a sheriff has its perks. She'd picked up a thing or two and was on the local police band in minutes. It also helped that Sam already had a few bookmarks for helpful sites and live feeds in the area.

Jody double checked her belt for her police equipment and took the steps up to the front door two at a time. The soul barely acknowledging her presence. She thought that the soul would guide her to the restaurant but the second the door was unlocked and opened the soul burst from the building into the sky.

“Sam! Wait!” she cursed herself out for not thinking that simple act through. Sam was in no mental state to slow down. She ran to her jeep and got it going, leaning forward to see into the nearly pitch black night sky, searching for that small light to help guide her. “Damn it, Sam.” She grumbled under he breath. She had no clear idea where the restaurant was exactly, but if it's just fifteen minutes away, then it's probably to the north side of the nearest town.

The jeep leaped to life and she raced towards town. Hoping that Sam would come to his senses and find her along the way. All the while, she was watching out for Sam's soul light, as well as the Impala, or any sign of danger. She had no idea what happened, but knew that if she waited, the odds of finding Cas and Dean alive dwindled. Knowing that there were very few things out there that could teleport, whatever had got to them had to also travel by roads. There were only a few that went past the small town. She called Claire up to tell her to watch the one heading east from town while she went north. The road south was blocked with construction and a cumbersome detour, and nothing really west for awhile besides farmland.

Jody planned to go to the restaurants in town first and question them if they'd seen someone matching Castiel's description, or the impala's. She'd start her search from there. Her stomach twisted at the knowledge that their group of five was now split up into at least four different places.

“Sam. I hope you know what you're doing.” The sheriff drove as fast as she could towards town. Praying that she'll happen on the impala on the way, with some simple innocent reason for the delay. Like a flat tire, or they'd run out of gas. However she felt it in her gut, something terrible happened to them and she had to save them. No one else could help, since no one else could even know of Sam and Dean's current state of being, or else Reapers would find them. Then it's all over.

Ten minutes later a warmly lit diner came into view and she swung into the lot, parking across three spaces in her haste. Jody forced herself to take a breath before bursting through the door and scaring the customers. She strode up to the counter, badge in hand to waste no time in getting answers. The cashiers were just high schoolers and had their hands above their heads at the sight of her determined gait and stare. Jody huffed exasperatedly at herself and motioned for them to lower their hands. After a few questions she found out that Cas had been there, ordered and left but there was no one there that saw what happened afterwards. She thanked them for their help and gave them her card if they remembered anything else or if Cas returned.

Her flashlight was out and scanning the pavement for clues and found them at the other end. Two tire treads peeled out of the lot recently going by the torn up grass from a jumped curb. She followed it for a dozen more feet before getting back into her jeep and heading off in the same direction.

Jody gripped the wheel tightly as she struggled to see any other clue as to where they went from there. No one was outside this time of night to question, and most of the lights in houses were from flickering TV's. No real witnesses.

Jody pulled over to the side of the road when it turned from town to farmland again, checking her phone for new messages. Nothing from Claire. “Damn it.” Jody shoved her phone back in her pocket and paced the length of her jeep, eyes still scanning the sky for any glowing lights.

A thought came to her and she wondered why it didn't occur to her sooner. “I pray to you, Cas.” Eyes clenched shut as if that would help boost her concentration and 'prayer signal'. “I pray to you Castiel, angel of Thursdays to hear me.” One can never be too careful, if there was another Cas out there getting the prayer instead. “I am at the corner of Leonwood and Grand from town. We haven't heard from you or Dean and think you might be in trouble and I just... I want you to know that we wont stop looking for you two.” Jody peeked her eyes open to search for Sam again before continuing. Her fingers turning white from their grip on each other. “I pray that you both are safe and that you call or come home. Sam is out searching as well in his soul form, I lost him when the bunker's door opened. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him from bolting. Claire's back at the bunker helping me search. Please. Please be ok.” Jody sniffled and made the sign of the cross to sign off.

“Please be ok.”

 

 


	22. The Light of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas wakes to a small room without a view, and Sam gets a bird's eye view of the town below.

Chapter Twenty-two:

The Light of Dawn

 

 

 

Time moved oddly for Dean as he waited for Cas to wake up. The angel's inner colors slowly grew from the near black and white to their normal vibrancy and Dean took that as a good sign. He excitedly raced back to the head from the heart area where he was trying to rest and recuperate. Staying in the head so long was only driving him insane. Pacing between his ears, eyes, hell, even the angel's mouth to see if he could somehow slip out without having to wait for Cas to become conscience again. It was unnerving last time he left via pie hole, but Dean was damn near desperate to escape. He knew that staying inside Cas's head for so long wasn't helping his own mind, so he left it alone and followed the calm pulsing blood towards the angel's heart.

Dean had to take a break from the constant vigil and rest somewhere peaceful and he found that the heart was perfect for that kind of unwinding. Steady and reliable. But right now, what alerted him first to the changing colors was the huge heart slowly picking up speed next to him. Something was different, something was happening.

Dean made it to the head just as the twin windows blearily blinked open. If Dean could, he would have laughed for joy at the sight. He made it just as a tidal wave of pain throbbed and an all encompassing pulse of heat shot out from Cas's mind from the influx of bright lights beyond. The window's light squinted closed, _hard_. The disembodied words that echoed around him were not so much audible as all encompassing. 'Unpleasant' and 'hangover', followed close behind the next few headache throbs to accentuate each point. The mind threw out some more half formed thoughts, assessing what the hell was going on right now. It was different to how Cas usually addressed him, and Dean missed the times when he wasn't shaken to his core by a simple thought. Clearly Cas forgot he was in there.

Dean shuddered at the renewed pain he felt coming from the angel's head as Castiel tried to wake up. He longed to soothe Cas awake but it seemed like his presence alone was causing some of the confusion and delay to normal thought processes, so he retreated back down to Cas's shoulder to wait out the pain.

The soul couldn't really hear Cas's words, but he felt them rumble around him before a cough shook everything inside. He guessed it was a cough, the lungs were going haywire for a little while and then settled with a deep flexing all around him in a pained sigh. Dean waited another beat before venturing back up again, much slower this time, and watched what was going on around him. Situating himself around the guessed area of Cas's nasal cavities to stay close, but not too close to the action. He did not want to get in the way of anything important and figured that his nose was not top priority at the moment.

Cas's mind seemed to be calming from the colorful torrents, and the migraine was pushed aside with a smallish blue-white pulse of grace that came up from far underneath Dean's perch. Probably his chest.

The blue eyes eventually blinked open again, but this time were mere slits of light. To the soul inside, it was just rapidly flickering images from the eyelids opening and closing, trying to adjust to the light beyond. The internal colors flared up suddenly around Dean, and he startled at the wave of iridescent hues that passed him by to energize and coat the rest of the vessel below.

Dean felt Cas clearly call his name now, and returned to the eyes to finally take a look around.

Castiel felt the presence of the warm soul behind his eyes and was grateful that Dean seemed unharmed. The hunter was relieved as well. Castiel blushed a little considering the fact that Dean was probably even more worried about him then he was about himself, since he was unconscious for most of this... abduction. Poor Dean didn't have any choice in the matter and was held prisoner just like Cas seemed to be, but on a different scale.

The area he was laying in was brightly lit and eerily sterile. The walls were all stainless steel and he could detect a hint of cleaning products that were constantly used in here for years. Layers and layers of the chemicals covering up traces of blood, organs, and bile, sweat being the most predominant. Castiel frowned at the hints and clues he was picking up from his space once he sat up to get a better angle on things.

Faint claw marks around the door, teeth marks on the handle from fangs, and concave bowls from elbows, knees and fists. His hand reached over to graze by the nearest wall and knew that it was very thick and supernaturally reinforced. If the beings held here previously were able to make their marks, they were very powerful indeed. Likely even stronger then he is at the moment with his limited grace.

It was too bad that whatever fate befell the former captives, they did not make it out of this room of their own volition.

His fingers trailed along the floor next and he felt the strong sigils and wards all around him. They flared up when he tried to let his grace seep through the tight seams and he felt a low level shock hit him. Rubbing his fingers with his other hand and frowning. Whatever drew the sigils was thorough in their arrangement and consistency. He couldn't find a flaw anywhere in the runes or Enochian. No weaknesses anywhere. He pulled his grace back inside his vessel completely to keep from activating any more wards before he's figured out what this place is. For all he knew, what grace left his vessel could be absorbed by the sigils or wards, never to return to him again. He had precious little left to waste it.

Dean was bouncing around behind his eyes and buzzing impatiently, so he decided to let him say what he wanted to say.

The soul startled at the sudden release of the vocal chords and floundered for what to say first. What he's looking at isn't very promising for them.

“Cas?” Dean kept quiet, remembering the request from before. The voice sounded rougher then usual “Cas. Turn your head to look around, please.” Asking how he was doing was redundant since Dean was in his head. He knew Cas was feeling better and wasting time on pleasantries might make them miss an opportunity to escape.

Castiel nodded and pulled his aching legs in from their stretched out state. He noticed for the first time that he was in nothing more then his black dress pants, socks and the white undershirt he always wears underneath the button up. He briefly lamented the loss of his coat and clothes before turning as asked. The last wall was the same as two others. Stainless steel and plenty thick by the feel of it. His room was about 7 feet squared. Ceiling too was 7 feet up and he guessed it was to give the occupants enough room to lay out fully if they wanted. He's been bound in worse. Here, he wasn't shackled and left hanging by his wrists, or hooks. In fact, now that he's inspecting his vessels outward appearance, he's actually been healing.

Castiel spoke up. “How long was I out?”

Dean huffed and said, “You think I know?” but not unkindly. “A while. Could be hours... maybe a day.” He shrugged and Castiel turned to get to his knees, trying out his legs to see if they're still working. So far so good. His hands planted on the floor as he slowly pulled around his shoes to get his feet underneath himself. “Whoa, Cas, take it easy.”

“I'm fine.” Cas took control of his voice back from Dean to silence unnecessary commentary or worry. “I can stand. I can fight.” His legs didn't want to cooperate at first, so he turned his face forward so Dean couldn't see him pushing his knees back so his legs went straight. Finding his balance again with his eyes closed tightly. Taking a few deep breaths to stave off the nausea. The wards surrounding him kept up their silent threats to take him out should he try and escape.

He brought his hands up and made fists, looking down at his curled knuckles to show Dean just how fine he is. Swallowing down the dizziness that washed over him. He knew Dean must have felt that and ignored the swirling soul's indignant spark. He didn't need the audio commentary.

Castiel took a firm step forward once the floor stopped moving on him and decided, so far so good, to try another step. That one didn't work out too great for him and he stumbled forward to the door. Catching himself from face-planting into the wall next to it at the last second. No doubt the strongest wards would be coating the door top to bottom and he didn't feel like passing out from another shock wave again so soon after waking up.

Dean was swirling around, scared for his friend and unable to do anything to help. Castiel took another breath and pushed off of the wall to lean against the one next to it. Congratulating himself for staying upright, if leaning, without passing out.

“I'm fine.” he said quietly and blinked in the area from this new height. The space seemed smaller now that he's looking down at it. He turned his head towards the door when he heard footsteps approaching his square prison. Backing away from the door and holding his hands at his sides, fingers flexing. His blade didn't slide down into his right hand, or left. It was gone. Sweat started to form on his brow.

Dean stilled inside him, watching and waiting. Nervous and worried, the soul compressed into itself a little. Castiel's feelings bleeding out and into him as they took in the door and the ominous sounds beyond.

The steps came to a stop just outside his door, Cas's fists raised in a defensive position. A shrill sound of metal scraping against metal signaled something opening but it wasn't the main door. A pulse of energy forced him to stay still and frozen in place. Only the angels eyes could move as they darted around, desperate to figure out what's happening to him.

 

 

Sam didn't know exactly how long he was in the air over Lebanon, but it was awhile going by how the sun started to rise again. He'd been everywhere in town. _Every where._ There was no sign of Cas, Dean, or even the Impala. He thought that there must be something, but came up empty.

His soul wilted as he looked down at the town from two miles above. Trying to get a bird's eye view of the land didn't really help since he didn't have a direction to go to past the town. He could pick one at random, but it would be wrong going by the odds stacked against him. He did see Jody's jeep a couple of times, driving around the same thirty streets that made up the smaller township outside of Lebanon.

Now, though, he couldn't spot the jeep anywhere. The last time he saw it, he could have sworn it was right there, next to a farmhouse. Sam was sure that the sheriff could hold her own against the locals, but realized belatedly that his rash behavior could have just condemn her to the same mysterious fate that claimed Dean and Cas. He should have stayed with her. Damn it!

Sam spun in place and fell back down to Earth as the sun started to really brighten up the sky. He heard the town wake up as he now searched for Jody's Jeep as well. Sam knew that he couldn't be seen like this so he darted into a large tree and found something useful in it.

It wasn't very big or impressive, but the cardinal would do. Sam apologized to the red bird for hijacking its body but he needed to hide in plain sight if he was to continue his soul search. It was a lot more work flying as a possessed bird over his soul form, and he promised himself to let it go as soon as he makes it home. Hopefully it would know the way back to its own home from the bunker.   
After scouring the streets at a much closer level, he figured that Jody wasn't there anymore. The only places he knew she'd be were the bunker, or on a lead to find Cas and Dean. He knew where the former was but not the later and had to choose what to do now. Go home, or keep floating around town and hope that he somehow stumbles across a clue. He knew the logical thing to do now. Even if he found his brother and friend, he probably wouldn't be able to help them out at all. If someone or some thing could take out an angel of the lord and the soul of the righteous man, then he alone would be no match for it. He needed help. He needed Jody.

Depressed and angry with himself, Sam fluffed up his borrowed red feathers and took to the air again, following the main roads back. At least he didn't need to cover his tracks like usual since no one really pays that close attention to random birds at ass-o-crack in the morning. The sun bothered him though, shinning in his borrowed eyes for the majority of the trip. He swooped below the treeline for awhile to have the trees and buildings block the sunlight. Watching the town disappear behind him and the few fields between. Flying on home, he felt like he was giving up on his brother and friend. It was stupid to just ditch Jody like that, but he thought that he had a chance at finding Dean faster on his own.

He sighed in relief when he spotted the jeep parked outside of the bunker. It was whole and undamaged so Jody must not have run into trouble. At least that was one less thing to worry about. He was just about to leave the bird when he remembered that as a floating soul with basically no mass, he couldn't exactly knock on the front door to get their attention.

Sam landed at the base of the threshold and stared up at the massive metal door. Hopping forward to peck at it produced almost no sound at all but a shallow tap. Sam grumbled to himself and turned around to get a better idea. Spotting the jeep he got one hell of one. The cardinal was finally released and it flew into the sky as fast as its wings could carry it. Crying out into the morning light. Sam prayed that the poor thing would forgive him for the brief possession. Consoling himself with the fact that if something else got a hold of the bird, they probably wouldn't be so careful and considerate. After all, it was just scared, not injured or killed.

Sam floated over to the jeep and went under the hood. Peering around at this and that, he found an electrical box and started to tinker around. He knew he did something right when suddenly the horn started blaring loudly all around him. He left the box when he started getting a little dizzy from the concussive sound waves. They damn near vibrated his whole being. Sam lifted up from the hood and would have frowned if he had lips at the lack of attention that got from inside the bunker.

Sam went back to the drawing board and using up considerable energy, forced the police band radio to turn on and beep out an S.O.S. He was exhausted and sunk down below the car after that stunt and waited. With his luck, if he stayed floating over the car, someone else would pop up out of nowhere and see his bright glowing ass. Thankfully, Jody came outside before anything bad happened, and unlocked her jeep, leaning past the passenger side to look at her dashboard to figure out why it went off.

Sam found just enough energy to lift himself up into view and Jody scrambled back from the sudden appearance. “Whatthefuck!” She yelped, arms pinwheeling to keep her balance after she jumped free of the jeep. “Sam?”

Sam bobbed once and started tiredly sinking again.

“Whoa! Whoa wait. You ok?”

Sam ignored her in favor of getting in the doorway of the bunker and drifting below the top landing to the light fixture just below. He started siphoning energy from it to boost up his own. The lights in the bunker dimmed a little in that area but came back on at full power once he was mostly refreshed. Electrical energy was helpful, but not a pure replacement for his own soul's energy. That would take time to heal.

Jody had come back in and down the stairs again. Several emotions warring for attention on her face. “Did you find anything?”

Sam swayed side to side like a shaking head. He slipped down and drifted over to the map table and hovered just over it as he forced himself into becoming corporeal again. Sam yelped when he landed hard on his ass with his legs splayed out. He never could predict what position his body was going to be in when he manifested it from his soul form. When he's a soul, there is no head or foot or elbow. It's all the same. Like if an ice sculpture melted back into water.

He got to his feet and dusted himself off because that's what ya do when you're trying not to show how humiliated you feel for accidentally landing on your ass.

Jody descended the stairs and loomed overhead. Blocking out the overhead lights. Sam gulped at the sight of such a huge figure staring expectantly down at him like that. Like she'd squash him if he gave the wrong answer.

“I didn't find anything.” Sam said just loud enough to be heard. “I'm sorry I took off like that. I uh, yeah. I thought I could find them from above.”

Jody scowled a little before waving off the apology. “It's fine.” she lied, paused and took a breath, “I understand, Sam. But for _crying out loud_ , I was searching for you all night! Your reckless actions made me split my attention between finding _you_ and finding _them_!”

Sam felt bad for that. He wasn't lying earlier when he said time moves differently for them. He did not realize how much had passed when he was out there. Before he could say something she cut him off.

“You will not go off like that again. Understand? We are stronger together then apart.” Her arms folded in front of herself and she raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded meekly before casting his gaze down at the table top. Finger tracing the circumference of one of the dark lights underneath the clear cover of the map. Jody's gaze flickered over to note distractedly that it was some unpronounceable city in Europe. There were plastic rings scattered around the map and wondered why the brothers never bothered to remove them. Now, each ring was larger then each brother. Sam didn't seem to give a rat's ass about that fun fact. His face too small to read, but his posture clearly stated his guilty feelings. The kid was beating himself up for the impulsive reaction. Jody reminded herself that as souls, the brothers aren't exactly like they were before. Their feelings seemed to be amplified and simplified somewhat.

Jody's chest clenched at the sight of the small man looking even smaller. “I'm not trying to be bossy.” She clarified, unfolding her arms. Fingertips gingerly touching the table's edge before gripping it for balance as she knelt down to the floor to address Sam at a closer eye level. “I'm not saying you're weak or any of that bullshit that might be going through your head. I just, I just know that when conducting a search party, all members need to know where everyone is at all times. If you were taken too, and I didn't even know about it, it would take that much longer to find you.”

Sam finally looked over at her. Swallowing a few times to compose himself better. “Yeah.” his voice cracked before he cleared his throat and answered again with more force. “Yeah. I hear you.”

Jody's lips quirked up, “Now, I was able to piece together a bit of what happened during my search. Small towns are better for having people notice when someone new and strange shows up. Several people saw a gray truck speeding from town headed east. I had one report of a tow truck hauling away a long black car but they didn't get either license plate or knew where they were going. I've been all over the town and I couldn't find another trace of them, so I came back here to use your computers. It would go much faster with your help.”

Sam straightened up at that, looking over at where Claire was hunched over a laptop, tired eyes scanning whatever was on the screen. She looked like she didn't sleep at all. Sam felt a little guilty for his ability to just steal energy from a light fixture to boost himself back up and keep going. He held out his arms in what was quickly becoming the signal for wanting to be picked up by one of the giants. Shoving aside the image of a toddler doing the same pose. None of his friends made fun of the brothers for it.

Jody let him climb onto her offered hand and she brought him over to Claire who only glanced up at them before staring at the monitors again.

Sam was let down again next to the wide keyboard and at this angle so close to the screen, the display was warped and discolored. He approached the screen and it got worse.

“Dude.” Claire complained. “Energy?” She rolled her eyes tiredly at the confused expression. “Your soul is messing with the electronics.” And shrugged a little.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I thought the distortion was from the angle I was at.” Sam backed up and it went back to normal. “Guess I'll just... listen to the police band.” He turned and walked over to the radio that was brought over last night, and sat down far enough away from it to keep from meddling with the incoming signals.

Jody forgot about the electronics and the soul's interference, but it didn't look like Sam took offense to the oversight. Adapting to the situation with ease.

Jody grabbed a stack of post it notes and tore off a few and stuck them next to Sam's spot. She then disappeared into the bedroom part of the bunker and came back grinning with a hand curled around something small and black. She let it drop on top of the post it notes and Sam chuckled at the sight of the long mechanical pencil lead. The tubes of graphite were like three foot long markers for him, but perfect for writing once he broke them down to size. Of course, neither human would be able to read his handwriting, having pencil and paper was still very helpful. He nodded his thanks up at Jody, and tried to ignore the bright neon yellow color of the four foot square sheets of paper while he jotted things down. He knew if he were normal, his eyes would be aching from the loud bright color.

Jody returned to the seat she'd claimed last night across from Claire, and pulled the other laptop towards herself to continue the search. Any tow truck companies within seventy miles were called up and asked about what they'd picked up last night. Then going through the records of trucks that were registered as tow trucks but weren't 'officially' tow trucks. Modified vehicles as well as the records of any gray truck in the area. If whomever was responsible for Cas and Dean's disappearance had been from the area, she'd know about it real soon.

Results were not promising.

She remembered to call up her Police station back in Souix Falls, and make up a new excuse for missing even more work. She'd already used up every last one of her 'sick days' dealing with supernatural related incidents so far this year, under the guise of having various illnesses, and people were starting to question where she _goes_ to when she's supposedly bed-ridden. Thankfully, her officers were understanding, and covered for her again this time, with the returned promise of getting a week off of their choosing later on with no strings attached. She said, 'Deal.' before they were even done with their demands, that desperate to keep her job and keep her team happy.

Jody _had_ to keep her job as Sheriff if she wanted to continue to use its many benefits to help out on hunts. But really, she loved her job and wanted to keep Souix Falls safe from all threats. Human and monster alike. And sadly, she can't really do that from a bunker in Kansas. She sighed and kept on scrolling and searching. The boys saved her life, _several_ times. Saved all the lives in Souix Falls too. The least she could do was save the brother's bacon.

Claire's school was less surprised at her absentee call, and Jody would have to talk with her about missing classes again when they had the time.

Poor Sam. Sam was just sitting at the other end of the table, listening intently to the garbled mess of voices on the police band. Doing what little he could to help.

Hours passed with no luck. Hope dwindling by the minute of finding them at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to formally apologize for the continued lateness of chapters. I don't really have an excuse beyond writers block for the details of the main plot. I have a rough idea where I want it to go, but I'm struggling with getting the energy to write it. I am sorry! I have a couple of weeks off from work for the holidays so I'm hoping that I can get at least another chapter out before the new year.   
> Has anyone else written anything like this fic? I could use some ideas here! not just with ghosts, but like, souls as they are on the show, or fics with tiny!winchesters.   
> Comments, kudos, and fanart/fic are love!   
> Lemme know y'all are alive or at least floating souls that are reading this lil story!


	23. Blinded by the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is not sure which would be worse...

Chapter Twenty Three:

Blinded by the Light

 

 

The metal grinding screeching sound was located at Cas's feet and an opening appeared where there was none before. A tray of food was shoved through the white void that occupied the space of the missing door and once the tray passed the threshold far enough, the door slammed back down faster then either thought possible. The footsteps resumed to a spot to Cas's right where the process was repeated, going by the sounds of his neighbor's feeding tray door being opened, and a vicious growl echoed in the hall beyond before that door snapped shut again.

Castiel was finally released from whatever held him frozen still and he staggered a little. Dean did the soul equivalent of patting his side for reassurance since the angel seemed very unnerved by that power. Dean and his brother were far too used to being held in place by supernatural creatures and only now realized that that must be a foreign experience for an angel. It was never very pleasant. To have something controlling you, pinning you down, able to do whatever they wanted with you. Thankfully, this time it was apparently for nothing more malicious then to serve them food unhindered.

Looking through Cas's eyes, Dean peered down at the tray and examined the foodstuffs. Some mashed potatoes and brown gravy, a slab of ham apparently and a container of milk like they serve children. It wasn't much, but Castiel would need his energy if he's going to survive here.

Dean nudged Cas from the inside to speak again and Cas let him use his mouth.

“I think it's alright to eat. I mean, when you were out, I listened in on what was going on and there was at least one guy that tended to your wounds. I'm guessing you looked pretty bad coming in here, and the guy was upset about that. Not altruistically, but I got the sense that he did care at least a little bit about your health.” Dean shrugged and suddenly remembered some of the other stuff that happened. “He did mention something about an auction. And, I think... I think they might be preparing you for it. So that means we gotta figure out an escape plan pretty quick.”

Cas waited a beat to see if Dean wanted to say more before he took control back. “I believe it would be alright for you to come out now, if you want. I can keep you safe, but I understand that you would want some freedom away from my vessel.”

Dean was eager to get going and he didn't care how he got out so he said as much. Castiel opened up his mouth and blew out a breath that held Dean's soul and the glowing light lowered itself down to his now raised hands. It took a few moments for Dean to become corporeal again and landed inelegantly onto his stomach on the splayed hands.

“Ow...” he grumbled and pushed up onto his elbows to look around. He got to his knees and peered over the raised finger rail that Cas formed to keep him from falling off on accident. The floor below was one of those unknown threats to Dean. If it would zap him like the truck's back hatch did. He turned to glance warily up at Cas's face that hovered overhead to show his trepidation. Sure he was all gung-ho for getting out of here, but what happened in the truck was far from enjoyable.

Castiel picked up on his thoughts and frowned at him. “I don't know if it will harm you... did you wish to try with your finger? Rather then your whole body?”

Dean swallowed thickly but nodded. At least there was food readily available nearby for a boost of energy should he loose it. He waved his hand towards the floor and held onto the fingers with a tight grip as the hand lowered down. Dean was close to the wide food tray so he pointed out the detour to Cas.

Dean hopped down to the metal tray and stood up straight. Cracking his back to help relieve the cramped up muscles he felt. Even though Cas's vessel was the size of a skyscraper on the inside, he had still felt like he was trapped and now, the walls were solid and sturdy. All of them yawned up all around him and the ceiling so high above, but they weren't moving on him, living, and psychedelic. He could work with real walls and spaces a lot better.

Dean knelt down onto the tray and leaned over with one hand lowered down to the steel floor. Scuff and scratch marks larger then his hand marred the whole floor from countless creatures that occupied this space before them. He lowered his hand tentatively and touched the metal ground. He waited a moment but nothing happened so he blew out a sigh of relief. At least they didn't have to worry about him being shocked again. Dean pushed himself back onto the tray and stood back up. It was one of those trays with three places for food on one side and two larger ones on the other. He was occupying one of the empty slots at the corner with the milk at the other end. In front of him was the mound of mashed potatoes and gravy. He's man enough to say that the damn scoop of taters was taller then him, and the slab of ham resembled a VW bug in size and rough shape. And he's pretty sure he could hide inside the carton of milk with Sam and a similar sized friend if they were so inclined.

Standing in one of the empty spaces made Dean feel a bit uneasy. Unable to stop himself from seeing just how small he is compared to normal food. Not even the size of a big bite. Dean shook himself out and glanced up at the gigantic angel and gave a weak smile, getting one back.

Dean approached and sniffed at the potatoes and gravy, dipping a finger in one then the other and having a taste. Swishing the grainy mass around in his mouth before declaring that it was edible. He didn't detect any strange flavors or anything chemical tasting. “You should eat up, Cas.”

“You first. It's not like you'd take too much.” Castiel insisted and folded his legs in front of him as he sat on the ground.

Dean didn't really argue the point and tried to eat without making too big of a mess. He didn't have any utensils and hated the idea of using his hands so he pulled out his wallet and used one of his stolen credit cards instead as a kind of scoop. After all, everything on him is part of his very soul so it's not like the credit card is going to have any germs or crap on it. The card worked, and he made a pea sized dent in the potatoes and gravy and used his knife to cut off part of the ham to munch on. He backed up to one of the empty spaces on the tray again. Sitting on one of the curb sized separators. He watched Cas lift up the flimsy looking plastic spork that they provided him, and scooped up a heaping pile of potatoes that probably equaled Dean's torso in one go. Dean felt a shiver go up his spine at the sight of that sporkful enter the large mouth and be swallowed down not long after. The soft moan that came out at finally being able to eat something substantial. Dean forgot that that was the whole purpose of their trip to that restaurant the other day, to grab food for everyone after that long tiring trip.   
The next sporkful of potatoes was even larger and Dean accidentally watched its journey too up to the massive mouth that nearly dripped with saliva and anticipation. The teeth coming down and lips to drag the food inside to be swallowed a few seconds later. He didn't even hear Cas chew it first.

Dean had nothing to fear in Cas, but that didn't stop his instincts _at all_. Hell, it was like his brain totally forgot that he had already been _inside_ Cas before and no harm came to him. None at all. In fact, he was able to _recuperate_ in there. Cas would never look at him like he's looking at that chunk of ham there. He's _family_. It's just _Cas._ He's _safe_.

Dean kept on emphasizing all those points to himself to distract from those palm sized teeth chomping down on the meat, making quick work of it before watching the lump go down his throat. Dean hated how he kept reacting to his friend's normal eating habits. It's not like Cas was playing it up at all, or emphasizing how easy it would be to devour him whole, the guy was just eating peacefully. Hell, he wasn't even looking at Dean at all. Every motion subdued and polite. Dean turned around anyway and looked up at the massive door before him. Trying to ignore the sounds of Cas cutting, stabbing and chewing on the hunk of ham that was the size of a car to him.

The meal was finished before Dean knew it and he turned when he felt Cas scrape his spork along the tray to gather up every last smear of food. The dude must be hungrier then he was letting on. Cas offered up some of the milk before he opened the carton, but that would be even trickier to share with the four inch tall hunter so Dean passed on it. Cas let out a soft moan at how the milk helped soothe his sore throat. Shaking the carton to get every last drop.

Dean waited another beat before turning and looking up at Cas's face as it slipped into something a bit more content. Eyelids drooping down. That got Dean a little worried that the food might have been drugged after all, but when he stood up and started walking along the tray closer to one of Cas's feet, the angel snapped back into focus and extended a hand for the hunter.

Dean was relieved and stepped up onto it. The angel was back to business. “Lift me up to the door knob, please.” he said and pointed it out as if there was anything else in the blank walled room that was of any interest. He arrived within a few inches of it. Scooting forward to take a closer look, but Cas ruined it by moving his hand back from it to keep the same distance. Dean was about to bitch him out for it but was interrupted by Cas.

“I don't want you getting hurt.”

“We need to figure out how it works. It's warded against you, it might not account for me. What I am.”

Cas frowned at him but had to concede the point. Dean was something that didn't exist before. A _corporeal soul_. He took and released an irritated breath, glared just enough to show how much he didn't like this, but still moved Dean closer to the door knob. Dean reached forward and extended the tips of his fingers out to it, tapping it rapidly as if he expected it to be scalding hot and found that it didn't do anything to him. He smiled widely above him and leaned back again.

Cas lifted up his other hand and tapped the handle and felt that same shock as before, recoiling his hand and gripping Dean in his other to keep him from falling. Dean must have felt the shock himself because he looked more worried then scared or hurt.

“I am uninjured. It was just a slight shock.” he lifted up the hand to show Dean the unmarred skin. “I doubt I will be able to open it.”

“But I might.”

“How?”

“Uh...” Dean reached for the handle again, both hands dwarfed by the bulb that had been chewed on by some creature before. “Working on it.”

Cas nodded. Knowing that these kinds of problems usually aren't solved in a few minutes. Both of them went motionless when they heard the faint echo of the steps approach their cell again. Coming back down the hall. Both held their breaths, waiting for it to pass by.

The steps got louder and louder, then kept on going. Each one relieved, sighed and then sucked in a gasp when they heard the steps halt altogether. _Fuck._

The stomping steps approached rapidly and stopped right outside of their door. A key entered the lock and Cas pushed himself off of the wall to gain what space he could from the entrance as the door was quickly flung open.

Cas's hand curled around Dean entirely and was tucked close to his side. Forgetting that he no longer has his coat or even jacket, there was no real place for him to hide his small friend. The creature that had opened up the door stood blocking its entrance and filling nearly the whole space. It resembled the true form trolls from legend mixed with a Hollywood werewolf. Neither of them had seen anything so disgusting and menacing. Cas's hand tightened around Dean a fraction more, but Dean barely noticed passed his panic.

Its eyes were glowing red, and the grotesque features morphed into something resembling a sadistic grin. It lifted up its clawed hand and Cas was frozen still again. Eyes wide, jaw slightly opened before he could shout.

Dean squirmed in the tight grip around him, looking up at the monster that strode into the small cell. He was _so screwed._ Before he could even try and go soul form again, the clawed hand was gripping Cas's wrist and yanking it upright into view. “Get away from us!” He shouted but it went completely ignored. This thing heard that demand a lot. Foul smelling black and brown smears marked all over where it touched Cas's skin. Dean gagged at the sight and smell of it.

A low grumbling sound came out as if it was speaking and it angled Cas's wrist to and fro to get a good look at Dean who was pushing for all his might against the frozen curled fingers. Then the monster brought up his other hand that held a bag that was dripping with blood. Dean struggled harder. He couldn't even reach his gun with the way Castiel's hand was wrapped around him. Not that it would do much good right now.

The thing let go of Cas's wrist but lifted a finger pointed to Dean and he felt himself freeze right alongside Cas. Watching in mute horror as the bag was emptied of the chunks of unidentifiable flesh, blood and entrails onto the tray that had once held Cas's lunch. Dean hoped that that meat had been intended for the other creatures being held captive down the hall, and not this guy's personal lunch. As if the guy was simply upgrading his meal.

The bag shook out the last of the chunks of flesh and opened up wide by one of the clawed hands, while the other reached for Dean again. Cas's eyes sprouted tears but Dean couldn't see or do anything, that is, besides watch as he was released from Cas's safe fingers, and into the calloused and clawed hands of this monster. He couldn't move his own muscles, but the thing sure could with ease. Turning him around with his huge thumb and index finger. The gnarled fingers were bending in ways that should be impossible to get his small fragile limbs to move how it wanted. It kept up a growling commentary to itself, giving some chuffing barks at him directly but when it didn't get a response back, it shrugged. Even if Dean could understand, he couldn't exactly say anything back right now.

He felt like a toy to this monster. It pushed and pulled at him, flipped him over and around, trying to tug his jacket off and growling at it's resistance. Dean felt as if his soul was being torn apart but he couldn't even cry out. It relented and lifted Dean up to its glowing red eyes. The hand shaking him a little side to side while it growled again and Dean felt his voice return to him.

First thing he did was cry out in pain. Panting and groaning at the claws that dug into his side. Holding him way too tight. He couldn't even come up with some witty retort at this colossal terror. Reduced to basic curse words. His body still refused to respond to him and he cursed the monster out even more.

The monster gave a wet sort of chuckle and barked a few times before it suddenly turned to an heavily accented English voice. Sounding vaguely like a damned movie pirate for some unknown reason. The horrid fanged mouth moved awkwardly around the words but Dean heard it clear as day. “My little pet. Why don't you sing me a song?”

Dean was startled and confused by the sudden shift in speech, before the fingers tightened around him and he cried out again in intense pain. Earning a louder laugh in return.

“That's the spirit!” and the pressure was immediately released. “Soon, you will sing for me without having to be prompted.” And nodded to itself. It turned Dean around and he saw how Cas's eyes were able to move now and the sorrow and helplessness in them was palpable.

Dean was flipped over yet again and the thumb pressed into his chest but at least it wasn't hard enough to crush him. “What are you, my little pet?”

“Fuck... you..” Dean choked out and gasped when the pressure increased.

“What are you, song bird?” Dean cried out again. Tears leaking from his eyes. “ _What are you_?” asked with anger starting to show in the grotesque features.

Dean felt his bones creak, ready to snap. Soul or not, his mind knew what that felt like and was all too ready to recreate the pain. “No-one! I'm no one. A low level Imp. My powers taken from me.” Dean said quickly. Telling this thing what or who he really was would be very _very_ bad.

“An Imp!” The thing exclaimed, spittle dripping from it's fanged mouth. A grin forming. “Haven't had an Imp for a long while. But song bird? Where is your tail?”

Dean was turned and a claw tried to pry his pants off. Unable to do anything at all. Dean was never so grateful for his stubborn soul clothes.

“My uh, my... my... master. It was cut off when I was bad. It held all my power. My clothes are now fused with my body.” He tried like crazy to make it seem like he and Cas weren't best friends. Monsters everywhere loved to torture one to get the other to talk. He also struggled to remember his lore on Imps. Little demons that were never quite this small, but vicious. Usually attacking people in caves and mistaken for rabid rats. If this thing knew who they really were? Things would get a hundred times worse for them. At the moment, where they were, whoever ran this place, wanted Cas healthy and alive and Dean was not going to jeopardize that.

The monster seemed to buy the story and he sighed with relief when the pressure abated from his chest. He hated how quickly he was being trained by this thing. To talk on command. But what choice did he have? He had to find a way to free Cas and the best way to do that is from outside of the cell. He was finally released from his frozen state and pushed against the huge malformed and furry finger in front of him. Feeling the crumbles that were caught up deep under the fur next to the scabbed skin. This thing didn't wash his hands very much. Dean's hands and lower half were covered in the awful brown/black goop that filled every crack in the skin. The monster must actually sweat this crap out because it kept coming. Dean struggled and pushed anyway.

The creature's 15 foot long clawed hands finally lowered him down, but it was towards the opened blood soaked bag. “ _No!_ ” he pleaded, squirming in the tight fingered grip. He would have preferred that dirty fist over the horrid bag any day. Dean watched the lip of it rise up and over his head as he was dropped the last few inches down to the bottom. Legs buckling underneath him from the sudden drop and the bad angle. The opening spun shut and the fabric dipped with his weight and he swung around as the bag was lifted up abruptly to be tied to the thing's waist again. A shoestring cinched tight to the belt that Dean didn't have a chance of hell at reaching, let alone, untying. It grinned down at the moving bag before it approached Cas again.

Dean pushed his fingers through the tight weave of the fabric and forced a few strands of the bag aside to see out. The monster reached towards Cas's frozen face and cupped it. Pinching Cas's chin and lifting it up. Cas's eyes had been fixed on Dean's position but were brought up to his captor.

“For this gift, I will leave you with that extra food.” nodding down to the chunks of flesh and organs that had splattered all over his tray. “A pound for a few ounces. I think that's more then fair.” and grinned again. Letting go of Cas's chin that was now stiff in the uplifted position. His eyes darting back down to the bloody bag that Dean was helplessly swinging in.

The door closed behind the monster and Dean could see the thing raise its hand again. A second later, Cas was pounding frantically on the other side. The wards on the outside of the door flared up with every slam and the monster chuckled to itself. A faint cry of his name coming past the metal and wards.

“Your name is 'Dean'?” he felt a hand graze by his bag and he threw himself away from the pressure. The palm curled under the bag and Dean felt himself being lifted slightly from underneath. Fingers much longer and thicker then his whole body curved and tightened around, groping for his form inside before it found him and pinched around his middle. Not enough to hurt, but it did force him to feel every inch of the disgusting bag on his body. The question he'd been asked nearly forgotten as he tried to keep himself from throwing up.

Dean knew that he had to lie, it wouldn't take long before someone else looked at his face and heard the name Dean for them to make the connections real quick. Then it would be all over for him and for Cas.

“That's just what he named me!” Dean shouted up, “My true name is Halen!” he hoped it would work. A growling hum responded back, satisfied with the answer. The hand retreated from around him and he fell onto his knees when the floor dropped back into the swinging sticky fabric. The ground shaking footsteps picked up again a few moments later. He was glad he kept himself from saying Van Halen, because it would be just his luck to hear that they knew of the band. His bag swung in time with the steps and he tried to keep himself from contacting the slicker parts of the fabric.

The trip back to wherever they were going took a few minutes, and in that time, Dean tried half a dozen times to turn soul again. If he could just do that, he could pass right through this bag unnoticed and hide out of sight while he figured out how to get Cas's door open, but something wasn't working right. He was stuck in his corporeal form. Which sucked. Big time.

Dean tried and failed to keep track what hallways led to where, so he could return to Cas's cell because everything looked the same, and none of the doors were marked. There were just too many of them and whenever the creature turned, his view would shift towards the massive thigh and he couldn't see anything at all till the bag swung back again on its own.

By the end of it, he felt his bag lift up over a dozen feet for him, probably just a foot or two in reality, and it was laid surprisingly gently onto a flat surface. The monster moved away, making some rattling sounds in the other side of the room. Tapering off to silence.

Dean immediately scrambled to the opening that was now laying on its side within reach, but couldn't get his fingers through the tight knot. Tugging at the string or rope or whatever it was that bound it closed was futile because he had to use both hands to even move his bag around the rope. No extra hands to grab another section of rope to even start to try and untie it from the inside. He was still able to manifest his pocket knife but it was just too small to cut more then a few strands of the thick bag. Each strand as thick as rope to his size.

His attempts must have been amusing because he felt a finger prod at the bulge his hands were making and he recoiled from the sudden movement. Dropping his knife that returned to his chest in a faint wisp of soul light.

“You're funny, song bird.” The growling creature hadn't left like he thought. “Don't worry, I have your cage almost ready for you.”

“Fuck.” Dean growled out himself and kicked at the knot. Pushing up at the bag so the drying blood would stay off of his head. He could see through the pinholes of light and the four fingered hole he cut, that he was covered in blood and whatever else had occupied this bag and felt like he could use a ten hour shower after this.

It reminded him too much of hell. He sat down and listened to his surroundings. Trying to gauge where stuff was in the room by how the sounds echoed. A clanking sound rung out and something large landed on the same surface as him that shook his whole body from the impact.

The growling accented voice turned into a soothing tone, “Before I bring you to your new home, You need to be cleaned. You're _filthy_.” It ended with a disgusted tone, as if he wasn't responsible for the state he was in.

Dean's bag was lifted up suddenly and brought over and down into something that echoed strangely. The top was opened up again and light streamed down from above, hurting his eyes. He lost what balance he had when his bag was tilted and turned upside down. He managed to swing his legs around to land more or less feet first into a swimming pool sized bowl of cold water.

Dean was submerged entirely and for a second worried he'd drown but his instincts kicked in and his legs propelled him back to the surface. Sputtering and spitting out the cold water. He tread in it for a moment before realizing that he should have turned soul again. He _should_ have. Just like at the diner with the pitcher of water. What was going on here?

That thought was knocked out of his head when he saw one of the monsters 15 foot long hands dive down next to him, holding a soapy washcloth. He was captured in the fabric, folded into it entirely as it scrubbed him from head to toe. He gagged on the taste of the soap as it was forced into his mouth and face, the monsters multi-jointed fingers far from delicate as his hair was washed next. His arms and legs pulled taught and squeezed inside the cloth that was becoming very dirty very fast. Then he felt his stomach drop to his shoes as he was lifted from the bowl and brought over to a faucet. Looking up at the rust colored opening directly overhead and the monster's pleased expression beyond it. A thoughtful frown was now on its face as one hand held him still and the other reached over him to turn the water on.

Dean had just a second to duck his face down as a heavy torrent of water bore down on him. The cloth was opened so the massive monster had access to the rest of his body with the water and he felt the weight of it all over his frail form. Pushing him into the fingers underneath. He cried out from the pressure and it finally tapered off of his chest but just long enough for the giant to effortlessly flip him over to do the same to his back. He hugged a fold of the fabric to keep himself from falling off of the hand when it tilted this way and that. Getting every last bit of stain and dirt from his clothes and skin. Dean heard the loud squeak of metal and the water finally stopped. He lay panting and coughing into the hand as it was raised up a little. The cloth curled around him again and he was bounced up and down and squeezed inside of it to get the majority of water out and back into the sink. Heavy pattering water droplets landing far below, reminding Dean that even if he did jump, he'd likely break bones.

He then felt the cold air return tenfold as the cloth was opened and he was rolled and tossed into a dry cloth this time. Squeezed again but his pained cry didn't even escape the thick hand towel. He was rolled side to side and around before it opened up to the grinning face of the monster responsible.

He didn't have any energy at all to protest as he was bundled up again completely and brought up high. Pressed against something that felt like a wall but moved separately from the hand holding him. A loud thumping sound was detected and felt the longer he was pinned.

Dean figured out that the monster was holding him to his chest as he walked somewhere. A loud rumbling purr sounded out and Dean was baffled by it. When it wasn't purring, it hummed a melody around him. The giant was leaning side to side, using his other hand to do something while he was still pinned to the chest. Dean would never admit to it feeling somewhat comforting after the water ordeal. The warmth of the towel and the broad chest beyond helped warm him back up from the freezing cold bath. The other hand stopped and his hand moved away from the chest, lowering him back down into a more horizontal position. He pushed at the cloth, trying to find its edges to crawl out and at least see what the hell was going on out there.

The growling accented voice started up again conversationally, “This is temporary, but if you like it, it may be your permanent home, song bird.” The cloth opened around him entirely and he slid down and out. The four inch tall hunter found himself landing on chunks of pebbled cardboard. Each one the size of a softball or football. Thankfully cushioning his fall somewhat. He covered his eyes with one hand to block out the intense warm light from above. Squinting around himself he took in his surroundings. First thing he noticed was the monster's face peering in past a very large glass wall, grinning and beaming warmly at him.

Next thing he noticed was that he was probably in a fish aquarium that had a bunch of hamster stuff thrown in. The hairy monster wrung his somewhat cleaner hands in the cloth with nervous excitement as it's large glowing red eyes squinted with mirth. It's gaze darting around in that way that people do to a cleaned house just minutes before guests arrive. Making sure everything was perfect.

Dean's stomach dropped. He's not sure what would be worse. A quick death, or trapped for eternity as this guy's little pet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be a hot minute to edit, got Christmas to attend to!  
> Merry Christmas everyone!


	24. Heating Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's life as a pet is short lived under this monster, but that doesn't mean it's over.

Chapter Twenty Four:

Heating Light

 

“Do you like it, song bird?” The werewolf/troll looking monster poked his gnarled finger up to the glass. The fingerprint smeared a trace of that gunk over it before the claw at the end screeched the glass as the finger curled inward again. Dean pried his eyes away from the giant monstrosity to where it pointed, and saw a small cardboard box that was probably supposed to be a hidey hole, a food dish that was currently empty and a water bottle hanging off the outside, with the end sticking through a hole drilled into the side of the twenty gallon fish tank. He blinked a few more times to help his eyes adjust as he turned to take in the rest of his surroundings. A plastic hamster wheel was up against the wall and mostly solid, no bars like the old fashioned ones. Probably some new age design to keep the rodents from getting their feet stuck between the bars. It was a hideous color of orange for the sideways bowl that had slats cut out for traction, and a neon green color for the triangular base. A few toy balls with some plastic tassels were scattered at one end. A kind of pentagram was drawn on one wall and he stared at that for a second before remembering he said he was an Imp, and that must have something to do with imps. Maybe help them? Dean had no idea. He did take personal offense to the toilet paper tube, sans toilet paper. As if he would find any enjoyment with that. The damned thing was as tall as he was, and the giant probably thought he'd climb through it like a burrowing animal. Fuck. That.

Dean caught himself before going back into a cursing tirade. Biting his tongue, _hard._ Dean's never really backed down from talking back to very powerful beings before. He's faced angels and devils and everything in between, but that was then. When he had half a chance in a fight. Or some kind of weapon he could wield against his enemies.

Right now, he's four fucking inches tall and trapped inside a hamster tank. The humiliation was thick in the air but he held back commentary. The best way out of this was to play along and wait for an opportunity. If he ticked the monster off, it could retaliate using Cas. Dragging him in here and demanding he makes Dean behave. Or, punish Cas for making Dean this unruly. If this monster actually did care as much as it seems. Best thing to do right now, was play nice. So he swallowed back his retorts and breathed heavily through his nose.

Lack of anything else to do, he got to his feet and strode over to one of the toys and lifted it up.

It smelled heavily of mint and he realized it was probably cat nip. The monster straight up giggled in delight. That caused Dean to stop and stare at him.

“I knew you'd like it!” The voice reverberated around him and suddenly the monster stood back up to his impressive height. Dean stumbled back from the fast movements, dropping the toy and reaching for his gun. “The heating lamp will keep you warm. Now, are you an herbivore or carnivore?”

Dean kept himself from pulling his gun out, taking another deep breath to calm his nerves. “Uh... I like... cheeseburgers.” Dean said, still trying to grasp what was ultimately going on.

“Omnivore.” it nodded. “Me too.” It said as if that alone would win Dean over.

Dean watched the thing walk away, each footstep shaking everything around him. Dean looked up at the top of the tank. The hatch was left wide open on accident. To him, it was about fifteen feet over the top of his head. No way he could jump or even climb out on his own. He quickly assessed what was available to him. He had an idea, and ran over to the thick cardboard hut, scooting and shoving it against the wheel with all his might. It weighed a metric shit-ton to him but he couldn't stop and rest. The box was wedged up against one of the narrow openings in the wheel to keep the wheel from moving. He knew that standing on the wheel wouldn't be high enough yet, so he grabbed his empty food dish and dragged that over next. He'd have to flip it upside down and balance it on the top of the curved wheel somehow. That would give him another few inches in height.

He heard humming in the other room and had no time to waste. The food dish was a thick plastic that was about the same size as a tractor tire to him but he managed to turn it onto its side and roll it towards the wheel. Squatting down and lifting it up onto the cardboard hut. Climbing up himself next and now it's the tricky part. Getting the food dish to balance on top of the wheel without having it slide off the other side. He looked down at his cage and saw the toys again. Jumping down and grabbing them and a few wads of the cardboard he scaled back up and wedged them into the sparse holes of the wheel to help keep it from sliding around. Far from perfect, it was what he had to work with.

Then he took a steadying breath, squatted down and lifted up the food dish as high as he could, using the wheel to help brace some of the weight. He pushed and tugged it into place and then felt it start to move past the top but it thankfully stopped by the toys sticking out of the wheel's holes.

Dean wanted to pat himself on the back for his quick thinking and construction but knew that he had to act fast. He climbed up next to the dish, bracing himself on the clear wall and took a shaky step onto the food dish. He then slowly got to his full height on top of the precarious structure. Looking up at the lip of the tank that was now only three inches away. Or to him, four feet over his head. His hands reached up and it was so damned close. He bent his knees, kept his arms up and squatted down again before jumping up as high as he could. Grabbing the edge of the tank on the first try. His feet kicking off of the dish made it shake and fall down off of the wheel which started to spin underneath his dangling feet.

Dean did not spare it a single thought. He pulled himself up and over the lip of the tank and sat straddling the top with one leg in and out while he tried to catch his breath. He'd never felt so alive since the day he'd died as he did right now. He was actually sweating. Dean heard the thing come closer, the humming getting louder and louder and he spun around in his seat to lower himself down before letting go of the tank's edge. Landing on his feet, he could swear he heard his ankles crack at the bad landing.

He fell to his side and looked up at the height he scaled and jumped down from. It would have at least broken bones for anyone else, but he was already dead so it wasn't as big of a problem for him. Still hurt like a _bitch_ though.

The humming stopped short and Dean froze stiff. There wasn't anywhere to hide on the table and if he moved, he'd be spotted immediately. Right now, all that was partially blocking him from the monster was the tank's contents, the hut and wheel. However, the monster was tall enough, that Dean flicked his eyes to the side to see its glowing red eyes just as it ducked down to be more eye level with the table.

The monster didn't roar or shout or curse, it just... it just _cooed_. Dean's brow furrowed as he listened to it say, “No need to be frightened song bird.” The sounds of fabric and coarse fur dragging across the top of the tank had Dean cringing, waiting to be plucked up from his hiding place but the fingers didn't curl around him, instead, Dean heard a soft thump from a finger tapping on the cardboard hut. Dean heard the hand move away as fingers tilted and pinched around the dish, lifting and putting it back where it came from. Then the hand uncurled and set some peanuts and berries down into the upturned dish. “The dish is best put here, next to the water.” Each one of the hard peanuts hitting the plastic dish made Dean blink at the sharp clatter, and he risked peeking around the corner of the hut to see the fingers adjust the dish once more before retreating from the tank entirely. “There we go.” It half growled in a pleased manner.

Dean couldn't believe his luck. He wasn't spotted due to the hamster wheel and hut, and so the monster thought he had simply retreated inside that hut after playing on the wheel. For as hideous as this beast was, it was actually being somewhat kind. Dean blinked that notion right out of his mind as he waited out the monster's doting attention. The damn thing hurt him on purpose just to hear Dean cry out, calling it a 'song'. It didn't care that much about him if it's totally fine with using pain as a training tool.

It closed the lid tight, locking it from the outside and finally turned towards a computer nearby.

Dean risked sitting up, then standing to see over the hut. The monster, hell, he's gotta give it some kind of name besides always referring to it as, 'the monster'. Especially when there seemed to be more then just the one. He'd need to be able to identify it later to Cas when the time comes. Dean watched it work at the computer and the name, 'Wharg' sounded fitting. Named after those wolf beasts from Tolkien's universe. 'Arg' for short since it had that ridiculous pirate accent. Dean watched Arg just go back to work using its computer. Its attention well away from Dean's location. Perfect.

Dean smirked to himself as he crept past the tank towards a very tall desk lamp that was angled over to his tank. Dean couldn't really see all the way down between the wall and desk, but he knew that the cord for that lamp would go almost all the way down to the floor. If he was lucky. Dean sprinted across the vast desktop and ducked down behind the lamp's wide circular metal base. Peering past it after he listened for a few moments to the constant typing sounds coming from Arg's direction. His run wasn't loud enough to be heard, and Dean congratulated himself on his stealth.

He grabbed hold of the cord with both hands that barely wrapped around it, and started to climb down, trying so hard not to look at the yawning chasm below. He half slid, half rappelled down the cord which was much thicker then any rope he'd used before. Even using both hands, he couldn't get a good grip on it so he ended up sliding even faster. Ending up at a curve in the cord where it attached to the wall socket. Dean hoisted himself up onto the inch wide plug and sat down heavily. Giving his hands a rest. Dean turned to the sides and saw nothing but cobwebs and candy wrappers around him. This desk hadn't been moved in ages. Dean wondered if he should try and jump down the rest of the way. Just as he was about to swing down to lessen the distance between himself and the dirty floor, he realized that he was sitting on the solution.

If he could just get a spark of electricity from that unused outlet to enter his body, it might be enough to trigger his soul form to shift back into something _useful._ Right now, he can't do much at all as a fragile little borrower. As a soul, he could just float through every obstacle, or, gather up enough energy to shock Arg into next week, or set fire to this place. Something. He knew that if he stayed his tiny corporeal form here, he'd have no chance at all at outrunning Arg or anything else that spots him trying to escape. His soul form was his safest option right now.

Dean had to lay out on the plug, legs curled around the stiff cord, and his head touching the wall, just to be able to reach below himself to the free outlet underneath. Letting go of the lamp plug once he found his balance. One hand dipped down and lined up per rectangular opening. He flattened out his fingers to fit into the slots easier, and prayed that this would work.

He plunged his hands in at the same time and everything went white.

 

Dean woke some time later. His eyes refused to cooperate. He felt the ground around his body and wanted to cry. It was the same pebbled cardboard material as before. He turned his head and cursed at the fact that he had a solid head and body, and wasn't a free floating soul. This time, _four_ monstrous faces were looking down at him laying there at the bottom of the tank. He blinked blearily at them and let himself fall back into the soft cardboard pellets again. There were growled out conversations outside of his tank and he tuned it out. Covering up his ears with both hands. His wheel had been removed, but the hut remained. Of course, it was too short to be used to escape so they probably figured it was ok to leave it in there with him.

Arg was arguing with the other three. Several other gnarled fingers pointed at him and the door at one side of the room, and at other things in the huge room. Dean didn't have a chance in hell of figuring out their speech so he let it wash over him. He failed his mission before he even left the room, and was caught. Awesome.

The heating lamp overhead warmed him up, and he was grateful for that small kindness at least, since he couldn't really warm himself up. The food was still available along with the fresh water. Dean found himself taking in the pros of his situation because the con's of it were too many to name and number.

He did pay attention when he heard the word, 'auction' come up a few times and he realized that he was going to be put up as an item. At least, if Arg decided to let them. Dean sat upright and turned to face the big monster. He can't go to auction. Cas is still here. He's still counting on Dean to get him free. But, fuck, weren't they also talking about putting Cas up for auction as well?

Dean had to make up his mind now what he wanted to do. What he _could_ do to change his fate. If Cas was going up for sale, then he had to be there too. With any luck, he'd have another chance to get to Cas again and have better odds of finding a way to escape from the auction house over this place. He can't even transform here. Stuck in this useless solid form. As a fucking _pet_.

Dean made up his mind. He stood and punched at the glass wall, facing Arg. He flipped him off, holding the finger up long enough for the giants to take a really good look at it, then started to kick the toys away from himself. Cursing up a storm before tearing his hut apart. Once he got going, he took out all of his frustrations on every single thing that had been set inside for his comfort and entertainment. The food was thrown against the wall. He pushed his hands against the ball of the water dispenser and water poured out of the opening, soaking the cardboard pellets and making them puff up in size. Finally guessing their use in here. They were intended to soak up urine from small animals to be more sanitary and easy to remove. Dean grimaced at the thought.

He wished he could produce waste, but he couldn't. Otherwise he's pretty sure he would have pissed all over the glass to emphasize his hatred towards Arg and show his disdain for this tank.

But, he didn't really have to do much more then what he already did. Arg was standing there. Silent, watching Dean destroy everything he put in. Then he turned to face the other three and nodded solemnly.

Dean caught a glimpse of his sad expression but Arg just turned away. Dean actually started to feel bad for the guy. A tightness in his chest at how distraught he seemed. But, that chance of examination was fleeting because one of the other three strode over to his tank like they'd won the argument, and lifted it clean off of the table, tilting it slightly to one side to brace it against their huge belly. Dean and everything else inside that wasn't nailed down slid to that wall and he felt every footfall rattle and thump everything around him. This thing didn't give a rat's ass if Dean was ok being transported like this. Arg held him gently after the whole bag incident, but this guy treated him like cargo. He kicked the hut away from himself to keep it from smashing into him every other step.

Dean got to his shaky feet and went to a corner to see around the rotund belly, and placed a hand onto the glass wall. But, Arg wasn't watching. He was propping himself up over the computer desk, head hung low. The other two monsters growling out something to him but were ignored.

Dean didn't know how he felt about that.

 

There was a lot of hallways and bolted and locked doors before they finally entered a storage room filled with other cages. Each one held creatures of every kind. And each cage or holding contraption looked five times too small for the thing inside, if they were even slightly human sized. Everything that was smaller then a rabbit got their own tank and Dean noticed that his must be a common size for them because there were two dozen others just like it with a few bird cages mixed in about the place. There was a great cacophony of sound at their arrival and Dean clutched his hands over his ears to drown it out.

A loud bellow came from the troll/werewolf carrying his tank, so he got a front row seat to hear it. It rang in his head for awhile afterwards but thankfully, most of the semi sentient things settled down at the continuous growl coming from the guy holding him.

His tank was finally set down on a table that held several others all lined up. Dean waited a beat to actually get to his feet. Making sure he was going to stay there for longer then a moment.

His access hatch was unlocked and lifted up and he found a huge hand reaching for him. With no time to react, it snagged him in a too tight fist and swiftly yanked him up into the open. He gasped for air. Chastising himself for thinking that he even needs to breath, he couldn't stop the reflexive gasp and wheeze.

The hand turned him over and once again, they tried removing his clothes. Apparently they are real big on having naked pets here. The monster gave up quickly, turning him back around to face him dead on. Those huge eyes squinted dangerously at him and he couldn't help a whimper escaping his lips. He started to miss Arg even more right about now.

The new monster – Not-Arg, was frowning deeply at Dean who tried to keep his eyes from looking at him dead on. Not wanting to seem like he's challenging him whatsoever, and, not wanting to look at that fugly for any longer then necessary.

Not-Arg took out a pen and turned him onto his back, pinching a leg in his pinky finger and then tugging it up into the dim light bulb overhead.

“What are you doing?” Dean demanded in a voice that was little more then a wheeze when the pen started drawing something all over his shoe. That foot was released and his other one was snagged next. More writing, or something. He wasn't sure how legible it could be with how small his feet were compared to this behemoth. But it appeared that Not Arg was adept at using it since the pen strokes never faltered. He was then turned around and pinned down by his shoulders and hips, his back on display as the pen came closer and started in on his jacket next.

He struggled and cussed the fucker off for ruining the jacket. Not Arg ignored him and kept on making marks on his back. Going over a few lines back and forth because Dean moved. The pressure released all around and he spun to a sit on the flat palm to see his back, and what he could make out. It was just a bunch of strange squiggles to him. Apparently it meant something to Not Arg because he nodded to himself and brought Dean back down into his tank. Dropping the small man the last few inches to the floor. Dean landed in the soggy cardboard bits and sighed. He looked up just as the hatch was closed again and locked.

Dean lifted one foot towards himself and tried to wash off the lettering with one of the wet bits of cardboard but it stayed put. “Fuck.” He threw the soggy cardboard chunk aside and stood up to check out the new room he was in. Most of the other creatures were also trying to get a good look right back. In a few tanks, there were small things that even Dean had trouble identifying. Even with his expansive knowledge on nearly all things Supernatural.

Most of the creatures were cowering, a few tried to eat their own cage, while one other was busy tracing a thin appendage along the glass of their own container, as if they were writing things down on a chalkboard. 'Erasing' some parts and then writing over the area again. To Dean, there was nothing there at all and he wondered if it was just something that it could see and no one else could.

It looked like a damned fairy, but with spider legs in place of arms and legs. It noticed Dean looking at it and waved a few of the appendages at him. He waved back.

It then started to try and communicate with various legs moving and waving about but Dean hadn't a clue what it was supposed to mean. He shrugged with his hands out to his sides to show he was regretful for not getting it. The spider fairy visibly wilted at that and mirrored his shrug back at him. Resuming their writing on their walls.

Dean turned to the rear of his tank that was placed in front of another and peered in at that fellow captive resident. He had to look hard past the foggy atmosphere inside and noticed a machine that was producing it for the critter inside. He cupped his hands to the glass to reduce the glare and reflections from behind him, and reeled back in horror at what he saw.

Whatever it was that was in there, was currently pulling its own limbs off of its body. What passed for blood was pouring from the wounds but it kept on going. Dean had seen creatures pull parts of their body off of themselves before, shapeshifters for one, but shapeshifters never bled as much as this poor sucker was from the removal. When it got to it's last limb, it flopped around and finally got it between it's teeth and bit it off. The severed body parts all twitched and writhed along the floor. The creature was hemorrhaging blood at an alarming rate and Dean felt a pang of sympathy towards its brutal self inflicted suicide. He raced to the front of his tank again, pounding on the glass to get help for the sad thing.

Dean remembered a time when he would have just sat back and watched the show. But now, he could see and sympathize with the creatures. That one was driven to committing suicide rather then stay captive for one minute longer. Dean paced about. Emotions running wild inside him. Turning and seeing it stop moving altogether. He waited another beat to see if this was something that it did to change forms, like a demented kind of butterfly from a caterpillar, but it just laid there. Dead.

Dean punched his glass walls in frustration. Vowing to himself that he wont give up that easy. He's going to _fight_ damn it. He's going to fight for Cas, fight for himself. Fight to survive and maybe he'll even fight for these creatures too. Most of them looked harmless to him. Begging for release. He recognized a few breeds, but most were a mystery to him. If he met them outside of this hellhole back in the day, he might have killed them all, now, he just felt sorry for them.

He realized that he probably didn't know of them, because he had no reason to hunt them. These kinds of monsters didn't go after humans. So they were simply off his hunting radar. That made this imprisonment all the more tragic and cruel. God only knew what they ate, but so long as it wasn't humans, Dean was fine with them.

Not Arg distracted his thoughts when he came back in with a pad of paper and a black marker. Taking note of each cage and writing something down on the note pad. After he went around the room, meticulously gathering info, he set his things down and started attaching the labels to each of the tanks as well as the coffin sized ones for the humanoid creatures.

Dean's label was in that same weird language, and underneath in parenthesis an English translation, “ 'Halen' Imp. Male. Omnivore. Grade B.”

Dean saw a few others and finally got an idea what they were and what the grading system was. Likely how intelligent they are. The only one that got a grade A was the spider fairy. Dean was not jealous of that fact. He was _not_. Most of the other things got a D or E, some slugs got J, and Dean's pretty sure the one labeled as an M was a damned rock with some crystals on it. It wasn't even in a cage. It just sat there on a shelf. Hell, he originally thought it was a decoration. But, he can't rule out what makes things sentient or not when he thought that spider fairy guy was pretty dumb for writing nothing at all on its wall.

Dean could see a clock on the far wall if he stood up on his half destroyed box and leaned over just right. Trying to keep track of the time just to have something to do since there was nothing to occupy his mind once Not Arg left again. He reluctantly ate the food he'd thrown around earlier, since it didn't look like the giants were falling over themselves to replace it with something better. At least he still had enough water left in his bottle for a quick wash of his hair, face, and hands before eating. Being handled by Arg and Not Arg was disgusting to say the least. He's pretty sure the stains will never wash out of his clothes.

Dean started to get really worried when he noticed that Cas wasn't there. Maybe he wasn't going up for auction at all and Dean made a big fat fucking mistake. He tried for the next hour to return to his soul form. Throwing himself to the ground to scare himself into it like Sam had done in the Impala when he slipped off of the seat towards the foot well. It didn't work. Dean just landed face first into wet cardboard. He reluctantly removed the cardboard to give his mind some incentive to not fall face first onto the hard ground and all that got him was a broken nose.

He couldn't manifest any of his weapons, just his wallet. He guessed that that was part of the warding in this place. Anything that can be used in self defense or as a weapon was forbidden. Which was great for them to keep their populous in check, bad for him.

Dean didn't want to look at the room full of creatures anymore so he ducked into his cardboard hut and fell onto his back. Pulling a larger cardboard pellet over as a pillow, staring blankly up at the hole he'd torn in the roof and at the heating lamp above. As the time ticked on, he was loosing hope of figuring this out. He thought he might be able to start a fire with his heat lamp, but every attempt to get the flammable cardboard up high enough failed. Even the soggy wet ones would only stick to the surface till they dried then fell down again. Not even hot enough to burn his fingers.

One of the creatures managed to knock the clock from the wall with it's head-tail and it caused a fresh wave of growls and howls. Everyone settled eventually and the sound of the clock was replaced with the whimpers of the quieter beasts.

Dean figured out the time of day by how many of the things drifted off into uneasy sleep and which ones started waking up. The nocturnal critters. He waved at them and they either bit at their restraints or waved back. There was no in between.

He sat against the glass wall, with his back to the room, facing the wall behind his tank and trying not to look over at the dead thing laying in that thick fog of its tank.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself back at home. Sitting on his bed watching some old stooges films on his laptop. Sam would be in the library with his feet on the table, reading for fun for once, and Cas would be in his own room, preening his invisible feathers when he thinks the other's wouldn't notice. Dean pushed aside the knowledge of the current state of Cas's wings, with how they would look before he fell. Cas's wings would be huge, black like a ravens yet shimmer colors at certain angles, and they'd be impressive as fuck. Castiel deserved to have his wings back to their full glory so Dean imagined them that way. A small smile snuck onto his face at how peaceful the bunker was. No hunts, no wars, no evil things lurking outside the door. Just the sounds of the three stooges, pages turning, and fingers being dragged through feathers.

A perfect day at home. What he would give for just _one_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had fun this last weekend!  
> I am planning on seeing Downsizing today with my best friend, I can't wait!
> 
> Sorry I don't have Sam or the others in any of these chapters, their search isn't exactly fruitful and it's not looking like it's going to change any time soon.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always greatly appreciated! It helps to know that there's still people out there reading this lil fic. Thanks to all those that already sent your love, know that it's kept me going so far, and I want y'all to know that I literally reread them like a dozen times before I write back. I get self conscious easily and I don't want to upset anyone with a hasty comment. And now I'm babbling.  
> Have a good one!


	25. Fading Light of Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a hard choice to make, and Cas has no choice at all in his fate.

Chapter Twenty Five:

Fading Light of Grace

 

 

 

“Sam.” The booming calm voice sounded sad and the miniaturized hunter didn't want to hear that right now. Or ever. “Sam?”

“No.” He muttered, pencil lead stabbing absently at the neon post it note paper with a bit more force then was warranted.

“Sam. You... you can't stay here by yourself. You know that.” Jody left out the numerous reasons why out of respect for the small soul. There was no need to pour salt in wounds. “And I can't stay here either. Claire has school, I have to return to work. _I have to_. I'm not saying we're giving up, far from it. We're just... relocating the home base to my house.”

Sam cocked his head to the side, eyeing up the huge human. “I'll be fine here.” He ground out, then softened. “I'll be alright. It's not the first time I've hunted Dean down solo.” Shrugging off the concerned expression overhead.

“No, you won't be fine all on your own, Sam. You can't even get in and out of the bunker and half of the electronics don't work well with your energy. What would you do if someone came here, knowing you're by yourself and...” she let it hang in the hair, waving a hand around at the enormity of the bunker and reluctantly at how small he was to defend it. The bunker would actually be safer if it were empty. Anything hunting the Winchesters wouldn't be drawn to it if they weren't seen going in an out. It was amazing that they weren't ambushed sooner with how famous the brothers were. Surely, at some point, some vengeful monster had followed them back from a hunt all the way home. Maybe that's what happened this time.

Sam wasn't privy to her internal musings, responding to what she last said, “I can get in an out if someone storms the castle.” He rolled his eyes but it was too small for Jody to notice. “Just. I dunno, leave the garage door open a crack. That will be enough. I don't need to be inside a vessel to cross the threshold wards in and out. Crowley's spell solved that. I'll be alright. But you two should go. Get back to civilization.” he chuckled and turned back towards the police band radio, twirling the pencil lead in hand.

Jody frowned and stood up again from where she'd been kneeling in front of the table. She pulled out a chair nearby and sat down in it, folding her hands in front of her but still giving Sam some space. “Sam, listen, I'm worried sick about them too. But we've all been searching for days. You haven't even slept.”

“I don't need to sleep.” Sam waved a hand towards the power outlet that was placed on the table for him. Specifically to recharge his 'batteries'. “If... _when,_ I find something, I'll call. But I can't... I can't...” Sam struggled to find a good enough reason for him to stay at the bunker. Coming up with the thin excuse that it was because this is his home. This was where Cas and Dean would return to if they could come back on their own. He felt like he was abandoning them if he left the bunker.

“Can't... what?” Jody decided to put a little pressure on him. Get him to see the bigger picture. “Can't come with us because you think we can't protect you? You'd be better off without us?” She asked, knowing that wasn't the main issue, but had to find out if it played a part in his stubbornness. Claire sucked in a breath and they both realized she was close enough to hear their discussion. Jody turned towards her, regretful in her choice of words.

Sam saw the giant teen stand and start to leave the room, trying not to show how upset that thought made her. Claire let her hair fall in front of her face to hide it from view, and she pulled out her cell phone as a distraction. The young woman kept trying to prove herself to them and hearing that it wasn't enough... “No! No, you two are ok, great, even. I appreciate all the hard work you both did! I just... I don't want to...” Sam accidentally broke the bit of pencil lead in his fist. He dropped it next to himself and growled a little in frustration. He took a breath or two. Feeling Jody watching him, expecting an answer. Claire was gone already. Sam hoped he didn't hurt her too bad. “I don't want...” his voice trailed off. He didn't want them in any more trouble. They'd already done so much for him.

Jody leaned back, hands in her lap. That probably was his answer. He just didn't want to. She nodded a bunch of times. “I won't make you come with us. I'm not going to do that. I am just saying, that, we should stick together. You should, _could_ , stay with us. Offer's open, and it will stay open.” Jody grinned at him, heart breaking but there was still that glimmer of hope. “It's a long way to Souix Falls is all, and the trains leaving the station in an half an hour. You know the way there right? Can you fly that far?”

Sam's eyes went a little wide and his jaw dropped open. He was fully expecting to have some kind of argument about this, or even be manhandled into coming with her. But her acceptance of his decision made him think twice about why he was making that decision to split up their little group at all. Everything she said was true. Even the things she wasn't saying. That they were stronger together. They were a family, after all they'd been through together.

Jody stood from the table and nodded once more at Sam who turned in his seat to watch her walk away. Claire came back in momentarily to gather up her notes from the table, and followed after Jody to the bedrooms to gather up their things. The ladies had to borrow a few clothes from Dean's room because their own limited wardrobes needed washing. Bad. Sam's old clothes were just too large for them, and Cas rarely switched up his clothes at all. The angel's tattered hobo sweatshirt and pants were far from desirable. Sam said they could probably even keep Dean's clothes if they wanted, they all got their shirts and pants from thrift stores and army surplus. It wont be missed, but, Claire and Jody insisted on returning them in good condition.

Sam was alone in the library so he turned back to the police band radio, listening to the static. No reports had come in for _anything_ in hours. Not even a cat stuck up a tree. Sam knew there were no more leads to be found in Lebanon. His brother and best friend were nowhere near here. He could pack up a few things and go with Jody and Claire and it wouldn't be as hard to be alone. Sam already felt lonely with the ladies gone from sight. Even knowing they were probably just in the laundry room fetching their things from the dryer wasn't enough to squash that ache in his chest. The empty hole where his family was supposed to be.

Sam couldn't hear them at all from his table in the library, but figured that was the next logical step for them in packing up and taking off. When they get back to Souix Falls, they're gonna be too busy with their own stuff to search as diligently as they did here. Jody said it herself, she needs to work and Claire has school. And if he does happen to find Cas and Dean, he would have to wait six hours minimum for Jody to drop everything and drive to the bunker to get him, then however long after that to go get Dean and Cas. Precious time wasted.

Sam made up his mind. His stuff was frequently moved from the bunker to the Impala and back again every time they went on any hunt. This wouldn't be much different. He'd just need to have Jody grab their spare weapons and things from around the place and throw them in the rear of Jody's jeep. Making it the new 'Impala' until they get the real one back again.

Jody came back into the library and then walked past Sam's table, dropping the couple of bags down at the base of the stairs leading up. Claire soon followed with her own bags and a pillow under an arm. Sam had offered his memory foam pillow to her after hearing how much she loved using it there.

“Jody?” Sam called over and at first thought he wasn't loud enough but she turned towards him, intent of giving him her full attention. She came closer, a wary look in her eyes as she knelt down again to be more eye level with him.

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Got any room for one more?”

Her smile lit up the room and she wiped a surprise tear from her cheek. “Yes. But uh, you should know, you're gonna have to somehow squeeze into the back. Claire already called shotgun.”

“I think I'll manage.” He smiled back up. That ache lifting a little from his chest.

It took a bit of time, but eventually the three of them gathered up all of the essentials from around the bunker and locked it back down again. None of them knowing how long it will sit empty this time, but hoping it wouldn't be too long at all.

Jody stashed all of Sam's weapons in the rear hold, under their bags to help hide it from civilian's eyes. Claire had already made up a spot for Sam between the front seats. An origami like folded chair/bed made out of a sweatshirt. Sam found it very comfortable and let himself rest his eyes. He'd worry about the decision to leave the bunker later. They had a six hour drive ahead of them, and, like Jody said, he hadn't rested in days. He would be useless to them if he wore himself out. Electrical energy was not a permanent substitute for his soul's natural recharging energy.

Claire waited awhile for Sam to drop off to sleep before draping her hand and arm behind and partially around his bed. Ready to protect the small man from whatever came their way. Jody glanced over and pretended not to notice how serious her adopted daughter was taking the role of guardian. Even if there was trouble or a car accident on the drive back home, Sam's the one that would make it out, out of the three of them. He'd probably instinctively go back to being an incorporeal soul on impact and just float through the car itself.

However, the sheriff couldn't deny the urge to protect someone so little. A person that was hardly bigger then a mouse. She too wanted to hold him tight and promise that every thing is gonna be alright. Sam lost so much already, and now, he even lost his brother and Cas to an unknown enemy. Jody knew it was in their hands to keep Sam safe, even from himself. There was no telling what would happen if he was left alone there. With his inability to sense time, it was completely possible that he'd be there, in that bunker for years without even knowing it. Devolving into madness at the absence of life there. The lack of family. They need him to stay 'Sam'. Because it would be too easy loose himself in the timeless quite loneliness.

Jody can not let that happen. For now, she let Claire take over the roll of caretaker, while she focused on the road ahead. Praying to God above that Cas and Dean are alright. Then, praying to Cas directly to let him know what they're doing. She had no idea if the angel ever got any of her prayers, but couldn't find it in herself to just _stop_. If there was even a remote chance he was listening, she'd keep doing it because he needed to know. It also made her feel better. Thinking that he'd find some comfort in the prayers, wherever they were. That they were missed and they wouldn't stop searching for them.

 

Castiel's knuckles were bloody and leaking thin traces of blue-white grace light by the time he lost the strength to keep pounding his fists on the door. The wards on the other side sapped nearly all of his grace from his body. He had to stop or else die there. He slumped against the wall next to the door and wept as hard as he did the day the brothers died. He failed. He had one job, to protect them and he failed spectacularly. He should have just kept Dean inside his vessel. Kept him safe. He'd still be alive right now if Castiel had just... if he just kept Dean safe. He was one small four inch tall man. How hard of a job was it to keep him safe?

Castiel had been beating up himself almost as much as the door, and neither got him any closer to Dean. He had to stop. He had to think rationally. He had to come up with a plan of action. But damn, did his body need to rest. Right now, he was seconds from passing out. He kept himself up, attacking the door, the walls, the wards beyond with his already limited grace and now it's like he's only got this thin wisp of it left inside of him. He could barely call himself an angel right now.

There were humans, formal angel vessels walking around with more grace then he's got. The traces of grace that an angel leaves behind in their bodies... the fingerprints. Those humans have more grace then he does right now. That muffled realization had him nearly crying out but he knew it would only be petty self pity. So he shoved it aside and leaned up against the corner. Closing his eyes and letting himself rest for a minute. If he didn't, if he pushed himself too hard, he'd pass out. Waking up after that would be nearly impossible until his body healed all the way. If he rested by choice, he would have a better chance at waking when the need arose.

It was painfully obvious that he wasn't getting out of there unless he was let out by those malformed guards. Best he can do now is get some of his strength back. He blinked an eye open at the 'food' on his tray and swallowed down the urge to vomit at the sight and smell of the Okami flesh. The 'Pound of flesh for his few ounces', is what that creature said. As if the righteous man could be summed up in his current size alone, and not deeds and worth. Castiel shuddered against the corners of the wall and pushed the tray to the far corner to get some space from it.

He then brought his knees up to his chest as he sat on the floor, hugging his legs and letting his head drop back. A dull 'thunk' echoed in his stainless steel room from the minor impact. He knew well the sounds of his fists, feet, knees, and even elbows had on the walls and floors, and just added the sound of his head dropping in despairing sadness to the list.

Sometimes he would feel a faint whisper in his head, and imagined it was a prayer aimed to him. Of course, with as much warding and sigils as there were here, it could easily be his imagination. But, he liked to think of them as prayers because that meant that he wasn't alone here. That someone gave a damn about him, that wasn't just the brothers. A nagging voice in his head commented unhelpfully that the Winchesters were probably only with him out of their own needs and desperate necessity.

The 'maybe' prayers that he's been hearing here, now, had felt differently then the casual way that Sam and Dean had prayed to him in the past. The brothers prayed to him as if they were shouting from another room, or sending a text, over the more traditional prayers he's heard and overheard over the eons. Castiel knew that he wasn't a well known angel to anyone that still prays, and it was exceedingly rare to be prayed to because of his near anonymity. So it was probably someone that just saw his name in a book of angels and thought it would be funny to pray to his name at random. Or perhaps they meant to pray to his angelic name doppelganger, as Sam had put it, Cassiel, and they were stuck with him instead. A near graceless angel that can't even open a door to save his friend.

Castiel shook his head side to side. He had to stop putting himself down like this. A never ending cycle of self flagellation and regrets. Castiel felt that little whisper again and could almost feel words coming through this time. It felt like a reassurance more then anything and he let himself smile at that. Someone was praying to him, he heard his nickname instead of his full name. Only humans that know him call him 'Cas'. Someone _did_ give a crap about him. He just wished he was able to fully understand the prayer and to reciprocate.

Castiel woke to the sound of his door being unlocked and he scrambled to his knees to get away. The feeling of freezing in place came back and he watched in mute anger as the monster that had taken Dean from him had returned to his cell.

This time, it was holding a pair of angel sigiled handcuffs in it's clawed hands. Castiel noticed that the bag Dean had disappeared into was no longer at it's side and he was scared of what that implied. Of course, he couldn't do anything about it, he was held completely still by this foul beasts unnatural power. Castiel's hands were pulled in front of himself and the cuffs were expertly attached to his wrists. Maneuvered around like a mannequin, he seethed with rage on the inside. Knowing that this creature did the same to Dean, and likely worse... Castiel would give anything to smite this abomination from the Earth right now. Nobody hurts his family. Nobody.

The monster rubbed its thumb along his frozen hand and looked into his eyes for a moment. It then frowned at Castiel. It started to growl but remembered itself and asked in English instead, “Angel, why have you spent so much of your grace?”

Castiel couldn't answer of course, but it didn't look like the beast was expecting him to.

The monster tutted him like scolding a child as the thumb rubbed harder against the back of his cupped hand. Castiel felt his grace roil inside of himself, becoming slightly stronger the longer the thing touched his hand. It started talking as it did so, head cocked to the side slightly. “This should hold you over till afterwards.” Looking Castiel dead in the eyes. “ _Do not waste it again._ ”

The beast yanked upwards on the cuffs and Castiel was forced to stand up abruptly. Then, the thing turned and walked out of the cell, tugging on the handcuff's leash and Castiel was forced to start following behind. His legs and body moving against his will. He mustered up enough free will and struggled hard against the cuffs, but they squeezed his wrists tighter and he was compelled to obey that much more. His muscles locking up before moving into a stiff legged obedient walk. Back straight and arms forward enough to give the monster a better angle at holding his cuffs as he led the way.

“Fighting against it only makes my job easier.” The beast noted and stopped to look down at the angel. It was nearly a foot taller then him, forcing Castiel to cast his gaze higher. His jaw was still locked shut so he glared since he couldn't speak. The monster went on, “I prefer if you _didn't_ fight me. I had a rough day already.” and turned briskly forward without explaining anything further.

Castiel was bewildered and outraged that this creature would say something like that to him. This thing took _Dean_ and likely _ate_ him. Castiel has _every right_ to fight against him every step of the way. But the cuffs made him compliant, and he followed crisp and dutifully behind him. Nary a step out of pace with the larger, and currently more powerful, being.

Castiel was led into a large kind of storage room that had a number of empty cages and tanks in it. Only a few of the containers still had living things inside. Castiel struggled to see past the one that led him into the room to see any way of escaping. Loud voices were in another room down the hall, past a heavy door, nearly all the voices were muffled and excited. The loudest one was barking something at the rest and he could feel the floor vibrate with the activities.

Castiel's attention was snapped back to his own predicament as he was being shoved and artfully arranged into a glass box about the size of an upright coffin. His feet and legs were pushed and pulled to stay straight and pressed to the corners of the glass box. Probably for him to keep his balance intact should the box be turned or tilted. His heart started beating faster as his arms were also arranged with precision. This monster had done this before. Many times.

Another imprisoned being was being inspecting by another werewolf/troll thing. The small being stood at about 6 inches, and appeared to be some kind of fairy with arachnid appendages. Castiel had heard of such a thing once from one of his brothers, it's an Aranick. However Castiel knew for a fact that it was from the Fae realm. He thought that all the portals to the Fae worlds were closed. This one must have gotten itself stuck here, somehow. Now, it was far from home, in an unsympathetic world, as it was being handled while still inside a fish tank. It was if this was something that happened every day going by the mechanical way the creatures in control moved and worked. Occasionally barking or growling something to each other as if bored of their task.

The one that was manipulating his body left to retrieve something across the room and Castiel now saw long elegant scripts all around the inside of the Aranick's tank. Most of the languages of the Fae were based more in prose then getting to the point, but this one was a plea for help in at least a dozen of the Faery's written languages. Castiel noticed that either the creatures that ran this place didn't see the words blocking out most of the view of the Aranick, or they simply didn't care. Either way, it was a pitiful sight to see something like a great Aranick being toted around like a scared, trapped, animal.

The small Aranick flew up to the latch and started to scratch ferociously at the immovable lid. Screeching desperately for release before the tank was lifted and held against the tall creatures hip as it carried it towards the heavy door that led to the commotion down the hall. The door closed behind them, and a fresh way of cheers and calls sounded out.

Castiel felt dread deep within himself at the fate that befell all of the ones that had been in this room. Dean had mentioned an auction. Surely that was what was happening not far away. An auction that sold off intelligent, living beings. His eyes darted back to the monster when it came back over to him. Holding another pair of angelic handcuffs. Clicking it into a built in ring on his right hand side, and securely affixing it to his right wrist. The monster shook his hand around, out and to the sides. Making sure that Castiel wouldn't be able to get much free and easy motions once the monster was gone, taking with it the strange power it had to keep Castiel from moving. It then unlatched the original cuff from his secured right hand to hook onto an identical ring on his left side. It nodded to itself at Castiel's position, and stepped up close one last time to fix his hair, and straighten out his simple white shirt using just the tips of its claws, before closing the lid on his tall glass container.

The werewolf troll took one last long look at him inside the container and Castiel hated that it was supposed to be a permanent display case at worst, a temporary transportation crate at best. He was seen as an object now. Not an intelligent being. If they had no respect for an Aranick, keeping it in a tank, than there was little hope that they'd see him worthy of freedom either. A small part of him was jealous of the fact that the Aranick at least got enough room to move around. Meanwhile he was given about five inches of space all around and that was it.

The tall creature nodded to itself in a fairly pleased manner before it left the room. Another one came in with a label that was affixed to the front of his glass display case at about chest level. He couldn't read it from inside, but guessed that it had information on his species, because all of the other empty cases and tanks had similar labels that were written on tape. His was printed on nice thick paper. La de dah.

Castiel felt a little of his muscles respond to him again the further away the head creature's went, and he looked around the room for any sign of Dean. If he'd been in this room at all, Castiel couldn't tell. The only things left now was a rock with some crystals on it on a shelf, and a tank filled with fog on a table close to the door. Castiel squinted and saw a dead thing in that tank and it didn't take a genius to figure out that it killed itself.

The sounds in the next room over grew louder and one growled out word rang out above the others which sent dread down his spine.

“Sold!”

He was up next for auction.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy chapters Batman!  
> Ok, so, having over two weeks off of work has suddenly given me my urge to write back... who knew?  
> Next chapters going to be interesting.
> 
> Auctioneer voice: Caaaan I get a kudos right here, right here?  
> one kudos!  
> Can I get a comment and a kudos right here, right here? Just a comment and a kudos for this wonderful angsty fanfic? comenkudoscomenkudosrighthereonetime angst withasideofhorror?  
> One comment and kudos!  
> Now, do I hear a fan art picture, one fan art picture out there? out there? One fan art picture right here? right here? Somebody's got some pencils out there for this epic angst-fest fic...
> 
>  
> 
> btw! I taped Misha Collins at Chicon2015 doing an auction. He's pretty damned good at it!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L90BRSu2nKY&t=3s  
> our seats were pretty far back so I rarely got a chance to film them up close. sorry about the focus going wonky at the start!


	26. Spotlights on Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's reputation precedes him.

Chapter Twenty Six:

Spotlights on Stage

 

 

Dean had no idea how much time he'd spent in the storage room with the other beings but it still felt too soon when the doors burst open and there was a group of those werewolf troll things coming in and moving tanks around.

Dean scrambled to his feet, tripping over the cardboard pellets as he got closer to the front of his fish tank to view the sudden activity. Each of the giant furry creatures was talking to another, jotting down notes regarding all of the things in the room. Dean tried to look past them as a couple stood in front of his tank but he still didn't spot Castiel anywhere. His heart beat harder. Cas was not going up for auction like he thought, and now Dean was about to be sold off for God knows why. To be a pet? A slave? A toy? Or something for his new owners to torture for fun. Or maybe something simpler then all that. Maybe his future buyer wanted to simply eat something exotic and rare.

If Dean can't get back into his soul form and get the fuck out of here, he's going to be _so damned screwed._

He backed up from the front of his tank when one of the creatures he recognized from before came up to it. It wasn't Arg, or even Not Arg, but one of the remaining two that he'd seen deciding his fate back in Arg's office. This one was distinguished by a bejeweled eye patch, so, 'Patches' it is.

A multi-jointed clawed hand curled inward and knocked on the outside of the tank, Dean peered up past the lid to a smirking face far above him. He couldn't help but take a few wary steps back from the giant thing. He's not exactly used to being this small yet. He'd only been this way for a few damned days, and even then it was in good company, for the most part. Seeing monstrously deformed titans that were intent on selling him for profit didn't exactly endear Dean in the least. They were big and scary and their motives with him were always confusing or unsettling. He wasn't human, or even something to be regarded with respect in their eyes. Just something they could sell for a quick buck. Dean wasn't sure if they'd treat him any better if he came clean and said he was actually a human, or had been human... They might even treat him worse if they found out, so he kept his mouth shut as the fingers uncurled outside of his tank and the remnants of the knocking vibrations faded away.

His head still rang from the throbbing percussion's. Sure that his ears would have at least popped if not bled from the intensity, if were a normal, but shrunken, human.

It growled something at him, or maybe about him. Dean cocked his head to the side to try and decipher the grunts but came up short. Before he could brace himself, the huge clawed hands pressed against the opposite sides and the tank was lifted up off of the table without preamble. Dean fell on his ass and stayed there from the force of the swift upward movement. The tank was lifted high up to its eye level with ease and turned this way and that to view Dean better. Dean's hands splayed out to both sides to keep himself from falling over even more. The cardboard pebbles tumbling around from the abrupt shifts the tank made.

It growled again and that smarmy smile was plastered on that long maw the whole time. Dean didn't even bother trying to stand again, feeling the ground shifting uncontrollably underneath him. Finally, Patches lowered him down to hip level and Dean felt the jump in the ground when the tank was firmly planted onto the jutting animalistic hip. Dean saw the arm on that side curl around his tank more securely and the light was dimmed dramatically from Patches' black cloak that opened then closed partially around the tank. The giant adjusted its fingers unconsciously and Dean tried to see past the arm, coat, and hand to where he was being taken. Patches carted his tank out of the room, following behind three other werewolf trolls, all with tanks of their own. Arg was carrying a tank filled with slugs, Not Arg was carrying something that looked like a con-worm, and the last one was too far ahead of patches to see what he was hauling.

All the while, the werewolf trolls were growling and chuffing with good nature with each other while Dean and the other captives were freaking out. At least the ones sentient enough to understand what was going to happen to them.

This was it.

Dean tried to keep himself somewhat upright as he sat on the floor of the swaying tank but kept on falling to the sides with each thundering step the legs that trailed below made. He couldn't get a good look down the hall, but heard a few other giants in a room ahead, calling out orders or curses, Dean didn't know which.

The brightness of the new room hit him square in the eyes when Patches finally shifted the tank in front of himself and the coat was pulled back away. Dean blinked owlishly to try and see again. All the while his tank was bouncing along in front of the monster now instead of off to its side.

His eyesight cleared when he saw a very long table with a nice white tablecloth draped over it. It looked as large as a skyscraper on its side to him. There were already a few other cages present that sat on the floor that would be too big for the table. The other three giants set down the tanks they'd brought in on the table and another creature came in to adjust them once the werewolf trolls left for more tanks.

This new thing was more human-ish looking but had moth wings fluttering behind it. Dean guessed it was female but it was so androgynous he couldn't quite tell. His tank was set down on the end farthest from it and he watched as the moth thing unlatched and reached into the first one. Trilling something indecipherable at the slugs and the condition they were in. Moth man reached down for a bucket of soapy water and was cleaning out the inside and outsides of the tank and making universally known annoyed sounds at the work it had to do to make it presentable.

Dean got to his feet and inched over to the front of his tank again, watching as a few other humanoid things cleaned this and that and a whole slew of them were setting up chairs aiming at a kind of stage with a few podiums and tables on it. There was already a tall glass chamber up on stage that held a hissing vampire in it, and at the main podium, was what looked like a long dead business man going over his speech notes. Large speakers were adjusted at the corners of the stage and spotlights were set up to face whatever was going to be brought up and auctioned off. Apparently, the vamp was just there so they could get the lighting just right before the show.

A few patrons arrived early to wait for the auction to start inside. Talking amiably with each other. Half of them appeared human enough, and it wouldn't surprise Dean in the least if they were. Albertus Magnus came to mind and Dean spat to his side. He avoided becoming a museum piece for that freaks collection, only to wind up here in this place. A dump being polished well enough to shine. Good enough for the ones who came to buy.

Dean shivered at the sight of a few of them fidgeting in their seats, looking over at the tanks and the other chained up and drugged creatures that Dean had seen from the storage room. A long line of iron rings were embedded into the wall about 8 feet above ground, and fairly close to the stage. This is where a number of creatures were being chained up by their wrists or what counts for wrists. Their own labels were being sorted and placed beyond their reach in front of each 'exhibit'.

Then a few barred cages came in, a few exotic animals that must have been stored elsewhere. Dean saw one of them held a fairly large house cat in it. Black and gray stripped and overall it looked like a normal cat. Dean was about to ask himself why the hell it was there alongside the exotic animals, because it sure wasn't here for the creature auction, when it started to speak perfect English at the occupant of another cage nearby.

Dean walked to the very edge of his tank, and just barely made out the sight of some kind of medium spotted jungle cat with ears as tall as he is on its head in a larger cage. Dean squinted and made out both of the labels. The stripped house cat was some kind of house cat/human Shapeshifter named 'Edward', and the other was a Sevannah that spoke English and named 'Jack'. Dean couldn't hear much of their conversation but the way the two cats were talking to each other made it seem like they were related somehow. Muttered words of comfort and reassurances. Dean did make out 'Edward' saying, “Just don't talk at all when you're up there. You'll seem like a normal cat to them, not worth a lot of money. They already got me on tape shifting, but they can't prove that you can talk yet. Albert can buy you and and then me and bring us back safe, back home.”

“Ed, I'm scared, man.” Jack whispered and Dean had trouble hearing it from where he was but knew it was the spotted one by the long whiskers bobbing along with the words.

“I know. Just, trust me, brother.” Ed reassured.

Dean knew there was a long story there but before he could hear much more, both cats went silent again as the spotted one was taken over to the other wild cats.

A new cage was brought over and set down that looked like a bird cage but it had a tiny little dragon in it. Its brown camouflaged scales made it blend in with the wooden branches inside, and it kept on chirping at everyone around it. The little guy had bat like wings and looked just like a damned medieval dragon but only 6 inches tall. The label on the side said it's name was 'Dane' and that it was a Drauglin. Whatever that is. Drauglin might be the name for a petite dragon.

Dean felt bad for the little guy as it gnawed on the bars of it's cage and hissed at the werewolf trolls whenever they passed by. Smart lil bastard knew who it could trust and who it couldn't as it went back to pleading to the other captive things for some help. Dean didn't have to speak tiny dragon to see it was distressed as hell. He hoped it would go to someone kind. Like all of these poor things.

The shrunken Hunter found himself wishing that these sad creatures would have a chance at being bought by someone that gave a shit about them, or hopefully escaping their fate, almost more then he had for himself. From what he gathered, he'd actually lived a good life compared to a lot of these poor guys. Not for the first or last time, Dean tried to turn into his soul self again. If he could just do that, he could get out of the damned tank he was in and maybe set fire to the stage or something. Go get help if nothing else. He knows that Cas would be able to do a lot of damage if he was set loose in here. Especially if his angel was powered up with his soul booster energy blast. Nuke all the baddies and save the bitties.   
Wishful thinking, but he doesn't want to just give up.

Conversations were going on all around him and he could only make out a few English words here and there amid the organized chaos. The buyers walked along the roped path that ran parallel to the chained things and began inspecting the 'merchandise'. Arg was there to make sure that they didn't get too handsy with the auction items. Dean was watching so intently to the other side of the room he jumped when his own tank's lid was unlatched and lifted.

Dean stumbled away from the slender hand that was reaching in, plastering himself against a corner and sinking down as it swiftly lifted up his cardboard hut and turned it upside down. Seeing his hut that's comparable to a king sized bed being maneuvered so easily, he gulped at the fresh reminder that he's just a small animal to them. The moth thing didn't bother addressing him or even acknowledging his presence or awareness of what's happening. It made him feel a little pissed off if he's honest with himself. Dean wasn't sure which was worse, being ignored like this, or having a dangerous gigantic monster's attention.

It gathered up the wet cardboard chunks and threw the bits inside the upturned hut, using it's slender hand to sweep up as many of the bits as possible into a pile to be scooped up. Then the hut was taken out of there and the hand returned for more of his cardboard bedding. Wet and dry pieces alike. Dean caught on quickly that it wasn't really interested in him, just removing the other things in the tank. So when it took out another overflowing handful, he bolted to the other side of the tank to be clear of the hand's destination when it returned. He waited and watched it dive back in and remove the pieces he'd been sitting on as predicted. He's not sure he wanted to know what would happen if he didn't move out of the way.

His food dish was pulled out next and set off to the side on the table in front of his tank. The moth thing then retreated from the table to soak and wring out the rag it had been using in the soapy water. He couldn't see the bucket but knew that it must be pretty rank by now. Dean watched it clean up the outside of his glass prison first, but then its other hand dove in and quickly wrapped around his startled body.

Dean fought against the grip but it squeezed a warning at him the instant he was taken out. A dirty scowl on the moth thing's face cowed him into submission for just a moment before he remembered that he is _Dean fuckin Winchester_ and he doesn't let monsters win without a fight so he began punching the fingers around his chest, even if it was hopeless. Part of his mind was grateful that at least this monster's fingers were far cleaner and daintier then the others, even if they were just as strong and unyielding.

His colorful curses fell on deaf ears as the other huge slender hand continued its cleaning spree of his tank. Dean felt the air in his lungs squeeze out of him one more time before he was brought over to the open lid again. Apparently, getting mothra's attention wasn't worth the few seconds of pride he had in himself, when all it got him was bruised ribs.

The hand tilted just enough for him to look down at the twenty some foot drop to the now hard and bare floor of his tank. The minuscule man only had time to gasp in shock as the fingers abruptly opened around him and he plummeted to the unforgivably hard glass floor. Falling on his side and groaning in pain.

The moth winged thing smirked at him for a few seconds, as if amused by his antics, before it refilled his food dish and set it daintily inside next to the thick water spout from the hamster waterer. It took one last look around before closing and locking up the tank again. There was nothing else in there and it smelled of detergent and whatever else that rag had cleaned before coming to his tank. So, slug slime and con-worm poop. Awesome.

Dean shuffled back to the far corner again. Half hidden behind the food dish that was about the size of a coffee table to him. One look in confirmed that it was more berries and peanuts. With nothing else to do, he opened up one of the cherries and threw the pit at the wall opposite before eating. The hunter in him knew not to waste an opportunity to power up. Gain any advantage that he can before the shit hits the fan. Who knows when he will get any food again. So he ate and tried to figure out what everyone was saying.

He was becoming less and less enthused at watching the monsters set up the auction hall. The clock on the wall said ten till noon before the dead looking guy that had been going over his notes behind the podium said a few things in one growled language at the audience, then again in a strangely accented English. Like he'd learned it from watching terrible old gangster movies. Hell, maybe he's a zombie and that's how he spoke when he was alive.

“We wish to welcome you to check out the items at this point. You have forty minutes before the auction starts at which point you must be in your designated seats. And as always, no touching, cursing, spell casting or enchanting of any items until the auction ends and you are deemed the winner of that item. Any infractions or breaking of the rules as stated or written, is to be dealt with by the Great Qersky at her discretion.”

The head dead guy then leaned forward as if conspiratorially, with a gleam in his eye that even Dean could see from a room away, said, “Offenders might even end up as a future item, as is the case for item number 42.” And with a flourishing wave of his hand, all eyes went to a figure that was trussed up by it's ankles and gagged with an apple.

A polite chuckle rose from the audience at the predictable and repeated joke, as they stood and stretched from their seats. The wave of buyers that came over to his table scared the shit out of Dean who had nothing really to hide behind. Some beings cooed at him, others spoke demands in languages that he never heard of. All trying to get him to move and show the buyers a new angle to his body.

He lifted up a middle finger at the lot of them and got a few amused snorts and others a sound of indignant protest. An argument arose between two buyers and was settled when Not Arg came over and yell/howled at them into submission.

Not Arg suddenly spoke English and Dean's head turned upwards at the understood words, “It is labeled as an Imp. A male that had lost its tail and is being auctioned off 'as is'.”

More growls and chirps from the small group that towered over Dean's tank. Nearly all pointing fingers at him.

“No, we are not able to just stitch on a new tail.” Not Arg said to one that pouted at him, to another, “Yes, his magic is gone, and no his clothes can't be removed.” More indignant squawks had Not Arg sighing in frustration for a half second before responding with, “Of course we tried. You're more than welcome to give it a shot, AFTER you win him. Not before.”

A clawed hand rose to silence further protest. “ _As is_!” Not Arg bellowed and got even more attention from those checking out the other tanks. “ _All_ of our items are labeled 'as is'. This is the same today as it was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Have a problem? Take it up with the Great Qersky.” He said knowingly and raised a furry eyebrow.

Not Arg continued on once he got them under control again. “For an Imp of this age and intelligence, it is still of great value. Nearly all of the Imps we had gotten in the past were feral and quite frankly, emaciated from lack of human souls to feed on. If you have another Imp in your possession, I recommend breeding them to help replenish the Imp population. They are a dying species and this one is still a find.” Not Arg saw that he now had a small audience of his own as more buyers heard and came over. His toothy grin spread out and Dean's worry escalated.

Dean had totally forgotten what an Imp's favorite meal was, and if he was in the presence of a _real_ Imp, he'd likely be found out for being just a human soul and eaten whole. Awesome.

The lid was lifted up and the clawed hand dipped down in, snagging him easily into a tight dirty fist.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered, eyes wide as he was once again lifted up and out, put on display in front of at least ten giant monsters. His feet were angled upwards to show off whatever was written there before and he could just barely see over the curled fingers that gripped his whole body at the buyers nod of approval. He still hadn't a clue what the hell it was supposed to mean.

The lid below him was closed and he was turned right side up again, and dropped onto it, stumbling a little to stay upright. Dean's throat bobbed from nerves as they leaned in to take a closer look. This time, there was no protective glass surrounding him, and any one of these Eldrich terrors could snag him up in their fists or claws or pincers and take off with him to God knows where. The only thing keeping him safe at the moment, was, ironically, Not Arg standing behind him. The furred body towered over all of the potential buyers. Dean was safe so long as his prison guard stood within reach. It was so cruel. He was free of the tank but completely unable to run for it with so many watching his every move.

A few things growled and chirped at Not Arg who answered in growls. Two claws came over and lifted up his left arm between them, wiggling it back and forth and in every position Dean had. Ignoring his yelps of pain and protest.

One of the giants pushed her way closer and gasped at the first clear sight of him. Dean's gaze shot right to her and she pointed a long trembling finger at him.

“ _Winchester!_ ” She shrieked and backed up into the ones that had filled in the space behind her.

A few confused voices sounded out around him and even more were asking her to clarify what she was talking about.

“That's a Winchester! That isn't any Imp!”

“What is this, 'Winchester'?” Another asked, holding a calming hand on her elbow.

“They are powerful hunters! Deity killers! Where there is one, the other is sure to follow and kill anything that stands between!” She was near hysterical, but held in place from the crowd that gathered tighter in. Drawn in by the drama.

Not Arg looked down at Dean who was at a complete loss for how to use this to his advantage.

Debating if he should try and dispute it or go with it.

“I've heard of Winchester.” Another thing that was probably male, mused. He? was not very tall, but appeared very powerful under that three piece suit. The being appeared human but had an aura of otherness that had Dean's hair rise on the back of his neck. He forced himself not to react and only just barely managed to appear calm and collected as the shit hit the fan.

Their loud group gained the attention of nearly everyone present. Even the zombie auctioneer came down from the stage at the commotion. The man was urged to go on. “Winchester's _are_ god killers. You may have wondered where a few went. Calliope? Chronos? They aren't limited to just Greek gods, the Vanir, Veritas, Cacao, Leshii, Moloch and too many more. Even, the mother of all monsters, Eve. Though, that is unconfirmed as there were no witnesses left alive.” It furrowed its brow down at Dean, almost asking if it were true without coming out and demanding an answer.

It went on when Dean stayed silent, not confirming or denying the death of the gods. It was as good an answer as any. “They are angel vessels of the highest order. _Archangel_ vessels. I would bet they heal better then regular humans, but they are... or were... humans. I don't know what it is now. I also don't know which one this is. I heard they travel together. I have never seen them in person myself. Not few who have had lived to give any kind of description. But the name. The name is infamous.” It nodded to itself. He then turned to look at Not Arg in the eyes. An imploring tone of voice of one that's seen too much death. “If I were you, son, I'd put it back where you found it and hope its kin doesn't find you first.” Then it actually addressed Dean next, “I have no problem with you or your kin. Please forgive my presence here, I wont return.” and nodded one last time before he turned and gently pushed his way past the crowd who also started to back up to give the thing room.

Just the fact that Dean was being spoken to directly as not just an equal but as if he had any power right now, was changing the minds of nearly everyone there. Debating in their minds if they should even place a bid, or run for the hills. Murmuring turned into growls and arguments among themselves. Dean's head hurt from the booming voices overhead.

An elegantly dressed woman with beautifully sculpted features spoke up, “I never knew the name of the hunters. But I too have heard of them. Their loyalty to each other knows no boundaries. Not even death itself. Even if this tiny hunter doesn't find a way to kill whoever buys him, then he's got kin out there that would burn the world down trying to find him and torture anyone that touches him. It's nearly happened before. I don't know about you, but I don't want to risk it.” as she backed away too, Dean found himself actually leaning forward towards her despite her massive stature to him. She was _very_ pretty and only after she left his sight, did he realize she was probably a siren. He shook his head to clear it and peered briefly up at his captor for an idea of what's going to happen now.

Not Arg was at a total loss. Jaw working soundlessly at the turn of events. Many buyers were shaking their heads at Dean, hands lifted as a peace offering before moving back entirely, or at least towards the other tanks.

Not Arg was surprisingly hesitant to get any closer to Dean as well. Starting to believe all that was being said around them. “Is it true?” He said softly once the main bulk of crowd had left them alone.

Dean turned around and from where he stood, his eye level wasn't even at the werewolf troll's navel. He tilted his head back to see the long muzzle and questioning eyes, and the sight nearly gave him vertigo. He couldn't bring himself to out himself just yet. Unsure how that would ultimately play out. “What do _you_ think?”

Not Arg's brow furrowed and he barked out something to Arg who had been speaking with the auctioneer. He came over after finishing up and glowered down at Dean.

“Where did you find this Imp?” Not Arg asked and it was clear from the expression that Arg had heard that question a lot in just the past few minutes.

His hands lifted to his sides. “It was in with the half dead angel they'd brought in.”

“Who? Who brought in?”

“Halseff's men.”

“Halseff? That crook? You know how the Great Qersky despises unreliable sources!” Not Arg snarled.

“What do you want? It was an easy buy.” Arg defended and peered at Dean again. Eyes searching every one of his few inches for some hint as to what he really was. “Besides, I needed the boost in grace that it gave me to keep up my spells. Without which, all of these items could turn on us in a heartbeat.” Arg was getting testy, foaming at the mouth and Dean found himself backing up towards Not Arg before his foot slipped off the edge of the tank and he pushed himself forward to keep his body on top. He did not want to fall 20 feet down again.

Both shot their attention to Dean as he got to his hands and knees again, and Arg wrapped his hand around the squirming body. Dean was brought up to Arg's face and he saw that the eyes were starting to glow a familiar shade of blue. Dean gasped when he realized that it had meant Cas's grace. It actually _stole_ Cas's grace!

“What are you?” Arg was pissed and Dean was squeezed tight, barely able to breathe and think straight.

“I – I told y-you.” He gasped out. “I'm Halen. I'm just an Imp!”

“That. Is a _lie_.” Arg's fangs started to drip. The hunter couldn't help but notice that that frothing mouth was big enough for Dean to walk right in.

“I -I can't... I can't -” Dean was turning blue from the strain and Arg finally loosened the grip a little. He took several deep breaths and pushed feebly against the claws that were already piercing his skin. “If I said.” Dean coughed hard, trying to get his throat working again. “If I said I was a Winchester, what would you do to me?”

Arg's glowing blue eyes shifted back to their usual red hue and he squinted hard at Dean. A long moment passed when the buzzer sounded off overhead. The auction was going to start in a few minutes. Arg turned towards his colleague. “Put him up. Maybe someone will buy him for revenge and we will be rid of this mess.”

Dean's heart dropped. _Fuck_. Dean _still_ didn't see Cas anywhere and now he's probably going to be killed the minute he's sold, and Cas wont have any chance in hell of being saved from here. Cas's grace will be siphoned off by this monster and if he doesn't die from that, then he's gonna be human, utterly useless in their eyes and probably end up eaten later. Most humans are nothing more than food to monsters.

The claws wrapped around him lowered him back into the tank and he was dropped to his side from only a couple inches above ground versus the long fall he'd had earlier. The hand retreating just a bit faster then any before, as if the 4 inch tall man was somehow able to scramble up the hand and arm like a spider monkey to escape.

Dean got to his feet and ran for the nearest wall facing the retreating giants. He had no other choice than to bluff. He resorted to punching the glass and shouting, “You should listen to what that dude said! You should just release me, so my brother wont come and kill you all!” He got a dismissive hand gesture in return. “What he said was true! We've killed dozens of gods! Thousands of monsters! Demons and even Angels! You think you have what it takes to go up against my family?! We. Will. Burn. And. Bury. You.” Dean's chest puffed up, remembering all those famous hunts of theirs. He earned that feared respect from these b-rated monsters. Earned his title as killer of all things evil.

A few buyers were hanging around till the very last, a desire to own this spunky little thing, despite the claims and the unproved evidence. A few saying that those two that bowed out of the bidding for him were plants sent in to lower the price for others. That they wont be fooled into thinking a tiny human has any power at all over them.

Soon, more and more were glancing at him inside the tank with pure greed. Much the same way that they others were looking at the captured lions and predators in the exotic animal side of the auction. They heard the warnings and it only made them want Dean more. To own something dangerous and equally famous.

Dean shouted death threats as loud as he could but heard his voice echo back to him more then it got out beyond the glass. “I'll fucking kill anyone that even thinks of buying me! Look up my name! Dean Winchester, angel and demon hunter extraordinaire! I've kill monsters my whole life and if you think you even have a chance at killing me then you haven't read up on your history! I may die but I don't fucking _stay dead_ and I always win in the end!” He cursed and shouted but all the buyers were already across the room. The auction was starting.

Dean was frustrated beyond belief. He had to watch as one by one, each of those harmless creatures were sold off to the highest bidder. He only caught a few of the buyers glance his way. Most looked apprehensive and unwilling to bid on the other items. The shoppers spirit wasn't in it anymore. It infuriated the auctioneer who tried to muster up the same energy the room had before the little discovery of item 180's true identity.

Dean was forced to listen and watch as each being was sold and carted off past another door to wait for the winners to pay and claim their prize. That spotted jungle cat named Jack, of the two talking cats, was bought first. And going by the look on its furry face, he was won by the right guy. But Dean didn't have a chance to celebrate for them when he saw that the other stripped one named Ed was won by someone else after the one that won Jack's auction ran out of money. They would be separated and it didn't look like Ed was taking it very well. At least he'll get to say goodbye to Jack in that other room before they split up for good.

The teacup dragon was sold for less then the others, and he thought that it should have been more because it was a fuckin' bad ass looking dragon. Catching himself thinking those kinds of thoughts, Dean cursed himself out. These were intelligent beings. With their own lives and emotions that were being disregarded. They're not some cattle to be sold. But, here they are.

Dean was one of the last ones up, it was clear that he was intended to be the first but they'd skipped over his tank for the one next in line on the table. Coming back to him when the crowd had regained its former enthusiasm.

Really, the auctioneers and the others in charge were debating the whole time on what to do with him. Arg apparently convinced them to sell him just to get rid of him faster and make a quick buck. Stating in English near Dean's tank, that if the tiny human had the power to kill, he would have done it already. A dozen times so far. Asking the others why he was waiting to strike and making a very valid point that Dean couldn't even open a clenched fist.

His tank was lifted up at last, and carried to the stage. The clawed hands belonged to Arg himself as he was set down onto the podium and the auctioneer grinned at the audience. The lights overhead were almost too bright for him to see anything. Especially when additional lights were adjusted towards his tank for maximum illumination. Dean's sure if he bothered to look, he'd be able to see the bones inside his hands and arms with how bright the stage lights were.

Dean tore his eyes away from them to look out at the varied audience. Blinking a few times to get his retina's from showing nothing but bouncing black orbs in his vision. Only a few looked reluctant to be there, the vast majority, however, was ready to bid. Numbered cards held in anticipation.

“Fuckin Fuck-Fuck.” Dean muttered. His hands were on the glass in front of himself. His voice sore from shouting so much. He inhaled deeply to make one last loud call before they got started. “Make no mistake, Assholes. Whoever buys me, will die bloody.”

The auctioneer started to chuckle, lifting his skin and bone hands to urge the rest in laughing too, pleased that they followed along in the jeers before he eventually raised his hand to stop them again.

“We will start the bidding at one ton of Dwarvish gold for the chance of owning or killing a famous Winchester.” The sparkle in his eyes shown almost brighter then the spotlights trained on Dean's helpless form as he peered down to the captured human at his side. “Who will start the bidding?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chap, sorry for the wait. Lots of stuff irl happening so the next one might be a hot minute.


	27. Fury and Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a little help from some fellow auction items.  
> .  
> .  
> (My Oc's are in this chapter from my first ever novel, 'The Cat's Journal'. The auction I had written in that universe is actually from an unfinished work in hiatus that is its sequel, tentatively titled, 'The Cat's Diary' -it's set a few years after Cat's Journal, and also has characters/story-line from my second novel, 'The Fake Cities'. Both novels can be found on here and I'd love to hear what ya'll think of them! You can read either one first, but need both to understand the third. Fake Cities is first chronologically.)

 

Chapter Twenty Seven

Fury and Lightning

 

 

 

Dean had been on display for five minutes up there. All alone save for the auctioneer that rattled off numbers and items that they accepted in lieu of cash. Watching helplessly as all manor of being and monster bid on him in various dialects. To each one, he flipped the bird or made some other lewd gesture during the whole fiasco.

In the end, Dean was bought for something that he couldn't identify whatsoever. Apparently it was rare and valuable and half the audience 'oohed' at its reveal. He felt a tiny bit of pride at that but it was short lived. The auctioneer shouted that one four letter word and his time here was near the end. He could barely make out that his buyer appeared human, female, but most monsters use that camouflage. She sat in the far back, but he did not recognize her at all, so he knew he was totally fucked. There was a slim hope that someone he knew and trusted had found him there and would buy him, but that was dashed away to the wind.

He worried it was a Reaper in disguise but that was pushed away because a Reaper would have just walked up and taken him. His soul, everything he is now, would have been thrown into the empty before anyone there at the auction hall knew something was wrong.

Dean watched Arg come back onto the stage and braced himself, ready for his tank to be lifted again and carried out of the door to the room where the winners went to collect their prizes. It was pointless pleading for mercy so he stayed quiet, sulking.

He was set down on the last free space on a long plain table next to the nearly three foot tall black spotted cat's cage. The ID label called it a Savannah and had other details summing up its basic descriptions. Recognizing it from before, he inched away from that side of his tank. Arg returned to the auction again, door locking behind him.

Dean peered a little fearfully up at the very wild, very huge predator that looked like a cross between a cheetah and a skinny house cat, but the tall lanky cat had his eyes solely on the other stripped one that it knew. The two foot tall black and gray stripped one was in its own barred cage across the room on the floor and it looked remorsefully back at the stressed out spotted one.

Dean knew that look it was giving. It was the same one he'd seen many times before from victims that were resigning to their doomed fate, grateful that their loved ones were at least going to be fine. He hated that he recognized it so easily. He wanted to save _everyone_ , not just the ones with better odds of survival.

He couldn't help but overhear the conversation, being so close to the one shouting and thrashing wildly in that barred cage not two inches away from his own tank. The whole table shook with each impact, strong enough to topple buildings and crumble bridges at Dean's scale. Each slam shook Dean to his core and he had to try and keep himself from biting his tongue off on accident as his body jumped with each solid jolt. The spotted jungle cat didn't see what it was doing to the others on the table, his whole attention on the other house cat.

Dean braced himself against the back wall, holding onto the water spigot to keep himself standing. Watching what was basically a dinosaur sized Savannah ram itself into the bars over and over again.

“Ed! It's gonna be ok, brother!” Slam. “We'll figure out something. _Don't worry_.” Slam. “We'll find out where you end up and come and get you back!” Slam. “I'm not gonna stop until you're home!”

The other one called back, “Jack, stop! You're gonna hurt yourself, man. Just get back to Nina, I got this.”

“I'm not gonna give up!” It rammed twice more, only managing to budge the cage an inch. The cat, Jack, was exhausted and panting. A long tongue licked his lips and he said quieter, “ _Not giving up_.”

Dean didn't want to hear how desperate the words were, and how much they mirrored his own that he'd be shouting if Cas was in here too. He had no words of comfort, and it appeared that the other creatures and things were also watching the drama. Some too shell shocked by what happened to do anything at all.

In the other room, he heard the next item up was probably that spider fairy thing. An Aranick?That one went for almost as long as his and he now knew how special that thing was by how viciously the bidders bid on it. It was the main event of the auction tonight, saving the best for last to keep the bidders in their seats til the end.

The lighting was better in this room then the storage one, and there was a line up of coats and personal effects along a far wall. Presumably belonging to the staff. Another wall had empty cages and tanks for sale if the buyers didn't bring their own, since the ones they were all currently in belonged to the auction house. A separate space was set aside for the safe transfer of the creatures from one cage to another in a sterilized contraption that looked like it belonged in a slaughterhouse. A few whips, clubs, and cattle prods hung on the wall next to the damned thing for the more reluctant beings. Dean was livid.

The doors opened and everyone froze as a werewolf troll brought in the spider fairy and set it on the floor just a few steps into the room since there was no more space on the tables. It was nudged, just shy of kicked, out of the walkway before it turned to return to the auction room. Door clicking shut and locking behind it. For being the prize item, the auction house staff didn't seem to care how it was handled.

Outside of the waiting room, the buyers all stopped talking when the announcement was made that the event was coming to a close with a live angel as the last item.

Dean's heart nearly stopped. He jumped to his feet and plastered his hands on the glass closest to the auction room. Bidding started and Dean frantically looked left and right, all around his tank for any idea on how to escape it and get to Cas. His eyes landed on the large cat and noticed that if it stuck a paw out of it's cage, it might just reach the lid on his tank.

“Hey! Kitty!” He shouted up and it didn't react at all to his call. He tried again, running to the glass wall closest to the huge Savannah and punched the wall as hard as he could. “Jack!”

The cat's large ears flicked around and found the source of the muffled voice. Jack faced the small, paw sized man. “What the hell?” The cat muttered to itself. “One of Nightow's?”

“Hey, hi! Ok, so, I think we might be able to help each other out? Yeah?”

The huge cat shifted a little to face him below the cover of his tank, and lowered his head a foot to see the small man better. Dean felt a sharp tang of fear run up his spine at how intense that gaze was.

Jack narrowed in on Dean, long whiskers twitching forwards and back as he scented the air, clearly trying to figure out what Dean was and to do about him. “Yeah?” Those large yellow/green eyes flicked back to his friend for a second. “You can help?” Hope starting to peek out of the furred expressions. The tail flicked behind him in interest.

Dean swallowed thickly, willing his instincts to calm the fuck down so he can talk without squeaking in fear. The nearly three foot tall cat might react with his own instincts and attack him as prey. “I can help. All I need is to get out of this tank. I can pick the lock on your cage and get you out of there and then we can save my best friend who's out there right now being bid on.”

Jack faced the other cat again. “No. _Him_. We save my brother first.”

“We can do that after we get Cas! He's an angel and can blow this whole place wide open!” Dean was shifting from one foot to the other, loosing his cool. “Dude! You at least have someone that cared about you that bought you! I don't and Cas sure as hell isn't going to someone that wants him alive.” Dean growled in frustration as the ears pivoted back down to him, whiskers twitching. Time wasn't on their side.

“What can I do.” Jack asked and Dean pointed up to the lid.

“Open that and uh...” Dean faltered. Once it was open he had no easy way out. He can't exactly climb up the sides of the tank that were 20 feet tall to him. He leaned over to the floor below. There was another cage just below. “Forget that, knock my tank over the edge and I'll climb back up with something I can use to pick your lock.”

“Ed's lock. Look, I'm safe but Ed isn't. He's a Shapeshifter and will be much better help to you than me. Besides, it would take longer for you to climb back up than it would be to run over to him.”

“Fine! Just hurry, Cheetos!” Dean shouted and Jack hunched his hind legs closer to Dean's side, reaching past the bars as far as his long fore paws could go. The claws were easily over an inch long each and curled onto the plastic of his tank's lid, dug in, and tugged. The tank moved a little and the paws lifted, claws disengaging briefly before they slammed back down on top again and pulled hard and fast. Jack hissed in pain from his pinched muscles and skin between the narrow bars but the tank was successfully dragged to the edge, teetering precariously.

Dean had a brief image of a car on the edge of a cliff face, and said, 'hell with it', and ran towards the suspended drop off. His weight, as small as it is, was just enough to tip the balance. Vertigo and his fear of heights reared their ugly heads at the same time the room tilted and rose sharply in front of him as his tank tilted and went down, the ground underneath him rushed up at the same time that he pushed himself away from the wall to get just as much distance as he could from the impact. His tank collided with and dented the cage below badly before his tank somersaulted over and landed on its side on the floor. It didn't break all the way, but the glass did shatter enough for a few chunks to fall away.

The cage his tank ran into was the one with the small dragon lizard thing. It shrieked in fright and scrambled out of the hole that was made from the bent bars.

Dean got to his hands and knees, grateful once again for already being dead and having something break the tanks fall somewhat. He shook his head and checked himself over. Minor aches but he was alright. He jolted at the shrieks and chirps overhead and saw the dragon thing fly around the room and out through a vent near the ceiling. At least one thing made it out of here so far.

He wasted no more time when he heard the auctioneer call out, “Going once?”

Dean scrambled to his feet and bolted towards the stripped cat's cage. Ed seemed to be ready and waiting for him. One paw outstretched and palm pad side up. Dean tried not to notice that even if these claws were smaller than the other ones, they were still as long as his hand and as sharp as a needle. As he ran across the room, he stooped to pick up a discarded nail from between the floorboards and kept on running. Thanking his lucky stars for the find so he wouldn't have to waste any time searching for a suitable lock pick.

Cas's auction apparently had one last big bidder come in at the very last second to put their bid in. That caused some excitement out there when a fresh debate arose to the value of the bidders payment item. All that gave Dean another few minutes.

He reached the cage and hesitated for a second at the paw that was a couple of feet wide to him.

“Move it!” The cat hissed at him and curled his paw inward and out.

Dean scrambled onto it, saying, “Just don't eat me.” In a half serious joke. The paw lifted him up to the lock almost too fast and he grabbed onto the thick bars to keep himself from falling over the side. Ed's paw was different from the cats that he'd seen in the past, in that Ed had a longer thumb than a cat's dewclaw. He knew this because it lifted up to help steady him onto the other raised pads. So alien from the human and even werewolf troll hands he'd been in before. The platform of the pad was far lumpier and rounded, and as he worked, his left foot fell of of the toe bean to land on the inside space of the first knuckle. Thick paw fur held onto his foot up to his shin. He only spared a glance down at how his leg practically vanished inside the paw's fur.

Dean put all his body weight into jamming the thin long nail inside the lock. The lock should have been an easy one, he recognized the brand, but he'd never picked one that was this damned big to him. The nail was a cumbersome poll and the sight of a big ass cat staring at him past the bars of the cage didn't exactly help him concentrate.

“Hurry.” Ed whispered, staring intently at Dean.

“Working on it Friskies.” Dean grumbled, putting his shoulder against the lock to give his arms better leverage to twist the nail a new way. He reached in with his hand and arm to move the inner tumblers manually and the job went so much faster. Hand turning and twisting in the tight space to push the right ones down. His size and proximity to the device helped him hear the right clicks.

He was glad he wasn't sneezing up a fit being this close to a cat. The lock jumped and clicked the nail out of his hand and he pulled his other out quickly. Fearful that he'd loose a finger in there. The cat pushed his head against the door to keep it from locking up again.

Dean felt the furred ground underneath him drop down suddenly and he stumbled off of the paw a split second before it was pulled back into the cage so Ed could get out.

Dean watched the building sized feline step out of the cage and directly over top of him. Edward then took a few more steps away and Dean's eyes went wide. “Hey! We had a deal!”

“I know.” The cat replied and before Dean's eyes, the cat collapsed onto its side and wailed in pain.

“What the hell?” Dean got to his feet and backed away from the writhing thing. Fur receded quickly and its form started to grow. “Oh. _Ohh_...” He said and watched as the body grew larger and larger. Soon there was a very naked young man laying on his side, panting through the lingering pain.

All the other shifters Dean had seen didn't shift like that. It was near instant with skin walkers and with the other kind of shifters they shed their outer skin. This guy's method looked fucking _painful._ It made him appreciate the effort that Ed was going through to help him just that much more. Dean was not expecting him to still have a long stripped tail though... the thing nearly took him out as it waved along the floor in that way cats do when they're agitated.

Ed cleared his throat and looked woozily around himself then turned to peer at the cage he'd just left and then way down at Dean. He reached over and grabbed onto him but far more gently then the others had before. He must have had experience with small things. Dean was eternally thankful for that because the last thing he needed was for this cat guy to turn on him.

Ed brought Dean over to Jack's cage and set him down next to it. Dean huffed in agitation that he nearly ended up right where he started. Then, the newly shifted man snagged hold of a coat hanging from the far wall and wrapped it around himself. Dean noticed that even though Ed shifted into something roughly human, he was still pretty short. He was still grateful for the help, but he kinda wished his help was taller than five foot three and had more meat on his bones then some half starved kid. Still, beggers can't be choosers. Ed made up for his shortcomings with how seriously he was taking his task. Apparently he was no stranger to danger going by the battle mode he was in.

Ed rummaged around for some kind of weapon in some wooden boxes near the coats. Asking over his shoulder, “What does your 'angel' look like?” As if that was a normal question people ask.

Dean had to shout to be heard, “Just like a normal person. I don't know how he'll be bound, but I'm pretty sure it would be like the other human sized things in this room.” He waved a hand to the other creatures who started cheering Ed on, or begging him to release them next. The noise level started to get a little too loud in there. Dean was about to ask Jack to tell the others to shut the hell up when the doors suddenly swung open and two werewolf trolls backed into the room.

One held the doors open while the other had a clear glass tank that was about the size of a coffin leaning onto a dolly that people use to move refrigerators. Dean's breath stopped at the sight of who was inside. Frozen stiff.

He barely had a second to shout, “That's him!” to Edward before the half cat shifter actually leaped forward and _pounced_ onto one of the werewolf trolls, bringing it down with a flurry of scratches and punches. The room dissolved into chaos as Cas's container slid and shifted it's balance to one side and fell onto the ground, running into several other cages that cracked and broke enough for the creatures inside to escape.

Dean jumped back at the sudden view of the spider fairy darting up from the floor. Glowing brightly and limbs spread wide before curling menacingly. Guessing that its tank was the one that shattered. And boy was that fairy _pissed_.

Dean tried to keep every titanic being in eyesight to know where to jump if any came too close for comfort, but that became way too hard when Ed was busy leaping all around the place to get enough momentum going between strikes. The guy was a whirlwind of claws and teeth. But the werewolf trolls were strong bastards, and weren't going down without a fight. It didn't help matters when the commotion spread back into the auction hall and the buyers saw that there was trouble afoot. It started off as a simple escape mission, and ended up being a Black Friday free for all when the buyers and losers rushed the doors en mass.

Jack saw them coming moments before they arrived and reached his paw past the bars to snag claws around Dean's clothes. Dean cried out in pain because that isn't just cloth, it was his _soul_ that was being pierced by those claws that were now yanking him inside the cage with the huge spotted cat. Dean's fight or flight instincts took over and he punched at the thick padded digits that pinched and circled fully around him. Not even hearing the cat trying to hush him down to keep him hidden.

Dean found himself let go next to one of the bent hind legs as Jack sat down fully again, pressing the tiny man into the longish soft fur as he was practically smothered underneath the cat's belly next to his bent leg. Dean pushed against a roll of furred skin to see that several creatures had gotten out and were being fought off by some of the audience, and beaten by the buyers. Blood splattered all around and Dean could feel the huge cat tremble all around him. Shooting his head straight up to see that Jack was following Ed's progress alone, shouting encouragements to his brother. Dean had to appreciate the level of will power it must take for Jack to keep relatively still and his willingness to protect Dean from the fight that went on all around them. If Dean were still out there, he'd have been smashed to hell by any one of the flying fists and feet. Jack's cage jumped and was hit several times but it stayed on top of the table.

Jack's attention was ripped from Ed when someone else came into the room from the auction hall. “Albert!” Jack called over.

Dean saw the imposing figure a few seconds later that strode in, bypassing the brawl and grabbing the large cage Jack was in with huge hands on either side. The guy was human, but Dean wasn't sure if he wasn't something more with how mean and determined he looked. This guy had seen some weird shit, that's for sure, and probably kicked its ass. Dean was betting he was a hunter.

“Albert! Get Ed out of here!” Jack slid to his side and Dean tumbled along with, scrambling to keep free of the large clawed paws and shifting weight. Those huge fore paws scraped at the metal to stay upright but apparently Albert just wasn't strong enough to keep the cage steady. It tilted and tipped on down to the floor in a controlled fall.

This new guy, Albert, shook his head at Jack and without a word, continued to drag the cage containing Jack and Dean out of the doors that led outside. When confronted by one of the lightweight staff outside, he simply shoved a wad of bills at them along with the numbered placard he'd had. “This one is mine.” He growled out and the staff raised up their hands, not wanting to join in the fight.

When they'd gotten a few feet away, Jack demanded, “Stop! Ed's still in there!”

“He's a trained killer. He'll be fine.” Albert said slightly breathless. His age showing on his weathered face. “He hasn't lost a fight yet, Jack, you know this. Let me get you to the truck where I have my guns. I didn't get the key for your cage and if I leave you here to go back in there, anyone can kidnap you again.” His hands gripped the cage again and it moved further and further away from the huge cement building. “Nina is not loosing her husband. Not on my watch.”

Dean was confused as hell at the drama going on overhead as he struggled to stay upright next to the cat's shifting weight. He finally got his breath back and shouted up, “Wait! My friend is in there!”

The cage stilled again and Albert leaned over to see where the new voice was coming from. Eyebrows raised when he spotted the small man. Then the big guy faced the room again. Sounds of glass breaking and cries being made left and right. Debating if he wanted to go back in there right now and join in the fray, or wait a minute. Checking out the area if there was anyone around that could be a danger to Jack. Albert made a decision, even if it made him an asshole. But he told himself that he owed this little thing nothing. “I'm not stopping you.”

Jack's jaw dropped. “Albert?! He helped Ed escape! I promised we'd help him!”

“Well _I_ didn't promise him anything. We don't even know what it is or if it's dangerous.” Albert retorted. Facing Dean directly. “Better hurry, boy.”

“This is bullshit and you _know it, Albert_.” Jack growled out. Claws flexing around Dean.

The man shrugged but was obviously remorseful. “Look, he can come with us if he wants, but I'm not stopping. Ed will be able to hold his own till I get back there with my guns. _I can't stop_. Hear me? I can't.” Albert said and shook the cage a little to tell Dean to get out now or never.

Dean ignored the rest of the heated argument overhead as he slipped past the protective paw and the cage bars and started running back towards the colossal building. The asphalt was hot beneath his feet as he sprinted. Pebbles the size of cinder blocks were leaped over and it seemed he wasn't making any progress at all. The shadows of Albert and the cage stretched out next to him for a few seconds and it was depressing how small he was in the world. He pumped his legs harder. Straight towards the fight that would be on par with a true-form sized archangel brawl. Feeling for all the world like a mouse going up against a den of lions.

He could feel a tingling sensation in his whole body and tried to figure out what was causing it. Realizing that it was the fading wards that had surrounded him the whole time that he'd been there. Whatever kept him in solid form was dissipating because he was away from the building. It had taken a minute for the effects to start to leave his soul. However, he then felt a tight squeeze around his heart the closer he got to the building again and stopped in his tracks. If he went closer, he couldn't turn into his soul form again and would be stuck in this solid state. If he turned soul out here, he could re-enter the building as he is. After all, he wasn't solid when he was within Cas, and he was able to shift from soul to solid once he left Cas's vessel. He just couldn't return to soul form after that. He was slightly less limited in his abilities as a floating glowing soul than solid.

His old plan to spark something flammable inside to start a fire died out because there was no telling what or who would ultimately die in there. If some of the trapped innocent creatures managed to get loose and run further into the building than he'd be directly responsible for their deaths as it burned down around them.

Apparently he wasn't the only one thinking about burning the place down when he noticed a speck flying around a distant window, shooting small flames at it. The little dragon dude was giving his all and managed to ignite the porch awning and a few windows. Dean cheered it on for getting it's own revenge before it flew away into a copse of trees at the other end of the parking lot. Dean lost it among the thick leaves and wished it good luck.

A few more things ran from the building, bolting in every direction. No telling what they'd been inside. Buyer, prize or jailer. But until everyone made it out, he couldn't just stand by and watch it all happen.

Dean made up his mind. He'd go soul out here while he still could and play by ear once he's back inside. He'll survive this. He'll make damn sure everyone in there survives this, or at least save as many as he can. Starting with Cas.

He forced his body to clench tight like a fist, and he slipped off of the ground when it was released in a burst of energy. Sparks of lightning arched around his form as fury built within. The Soul Survivor was back.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa boy! Shits going down!  
> Everybody was kung fu fighting! yah!
> 
> So yeah, Please check out my other stories! I spent literally *years* working on them, esp Cat's Journal where Ed, Jack, and Albert came from. Though, Jack isn't a Savannah just yet, that happens in the wip.


	28. Heaven Let Your Light Shine Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean manages to break the bonds. Castiel gains a few extra passengers.

Chapter Twenty Eight:

Heaven Let Your Light Shine Down

 

 

Dean was about to fly directly back into the fray, but stopped in mid air, about ten feet off the ground, when he remembered a key detail that was causing 90% of all the shit that's holding them all back. The damned wards. They'd have to be placed all along the outer walls of the place, or somewhere all encompassing, to keep everything inside behaving the way they want them to.

That cat-man, Ed, was fighting fang and claw in there but the big bad wolves just weren't staying down. Something has got to be protecting them from that attack. Dean saw Ed, that guy was _bad ass_ and there's no way that his opponents were still standing if it weren't for some major spellwork being done to protect the monsters in charge. They were hurt, yeah, but they were still breathing, which is unnatural for the ferocity in Ed's and even that spider fairy's attacks.

In Dean's case, those protection wards or whatever they are, kept him living a slightly more realistic and human-like way than he had before. He felt more _alive_ in there than out, and for a second, he knew he'd miss that. However, he'd give it up in a heartbeat if it meant having to stay inside that building forever. Trapped like a damned gerbil in a tank.

Dean circled the tall gray building, searching for any visible hints of the wards inside, and where they'd likely be placed. His soul vision helping out immensely, sensing the living activities vibrating away in the lower first floors that were absent on the top third floor. He flew in closer to inspect the silence there when he felt a thrum of power start to grow like someone breathing down his non-existent neck. A different kind of vibration in the spaces up top. These were more like ocean waves or trees swaying in a breeze, but... not. Dean's soul felt a pull towards them and had to shake himself out to get his head in the game.

He hit jackpot when the unquenchable fires that that tiny dragon made had opened up a hole near the roof. The building itself looked like old Art Deco but revamped some time in the 80's. The top most floor appeared to be abandoned attic space going by the lack of updated window covers on the windows that were not currently on fire. All the rest of the windows had blinds drawn shut or had clean curtains. Going for style to make the bidders feel more welcomed. No one would spend a shit ton of money in a place that looked like it was going to fall in on itself. Dean remembered that last monster run auction and wondered at how they even got the bidders to want to be there in the first place. Of course, it was probably the priceless items inside. The word of God and Thor's hammer might be enough to pull in the small crowd back then, but, this auction house didn't have as many one of a kind, irreplaceable, and powerful artifacts. So they had to shine up the shithole to draw any bidders in. Dean took another look around at the outside of the building as he made sure there was no better way in, and thought that they could have cleaned it up a bit more if they gave a shit. It looked like one of those libraries that are abandoned when a new and improved one was built elsewhere in the city.

He went inside the hole in the wall that was still partially on fire, courtesy of the tiny dragon, and Dean found a gigantic glowing ward that spanned nearly the whole damned ceiling. He could feel the power of it thrum through him and tried to think of a way to deactivate it and not get himself disintegrated in the process. These wards were a total bitch to him so far and it wouldn't do to kill himself for no reason. If cutting lines in the ward was a good or bad thing to do right now, or wait and see if there's something else he could do to shut down its influence. Preferably something that didn't involve him touching it and disappearing into nothingness.

He wished he could just ask Cas for his opinion and expertise but he was in that room down at the ground level, doing a great impression of Han solo stuck in carbonate. Sucks that Cas hadn't seen him in there, to know for sure that Dean was ok. The way Cas's glass case fell, made him face the other way, towards the coats and junk. Not even able to watch the fight.

Dean put that out of mind and went around the whole glowing ward, searching for an idea on how to kill the switch without killing himself... again. His sight was spherical in this form so no crevice was left unchecked as he moved around the place. His attention snapped to a sprinkler system and wondered if it was still hooked up to water. He knew the fastest way to check was go inside but also knew that water is his weakness. It wasn't inside the building when Arg gave him that bath, but, he's above the ward now. No telling if it only affected those underneath it and not above it.

The damned thing was about a hundred feet in diameter and glowing a familiar shade of white blue. It was Angel grace powered. Dean sparked in anger at that. How many Angels had been sucked dry for this thing? Arg would know. He was able to use stolen grace to overpower Cas and no normal creature can do that.

Dean had an idea, and then groaned internally at himself for it.

He reluctantly darted away from the ward, memorizing where it is in the attic space of the tall building, and zipped down to the brawl going on in the rooms below. By now, most of the creatures were loose, and the buyers were trying to wrangle them back up outside. Edward was still going but on closer inspection, he was exhausted from fighting these huge werewolf troll bastards.

Albert, Ed's friend, was shooting everything in sight that went after his boy, but the bullets only worked on half of the critters. Cluing in Dean that Albert wasn't a hunter after all. Probably only using normal bullets instead of silver. Albert aimed his gun up at Dean and fired of a round which passed right through him. Dean sparked indignantly at him and avoided being shot again. That was just rude and those bullets would be put to better use elsewhere.

The soul was relieved that since Cas was still frozen inside the case, meant that he went ignored for the most part. Not a threat to anyone that was either fighting for their lives or for a prize. The bitch that had the winning bid in his auction was skulking around the corners of the room, probably searching for him like one would a mouse. Dean left her to it. No point wasting time gloating at her pointless search. She wasn't going to find him, not now or ever.

Dean dodged around several hand to hand fights, a couple of shouting/growling matches and one tug of war with a kind of golden glowing rope. No idea what that was all about. Dean finally found Arg in the auction hall, loading up as many of the weapons as he could that were checked at the door from all of the bidders. Dean could see it in those glowing red eyes that Arg was gearing up to just fuckin kill everyone so they can start over somewhere new.

Dean was not having it.

He plowed full steam ahead towards Arg and before he could loose his nerve, plunged directly into the big guy's body just like he'd done to the dozens of animals on the way to the bunker alongside Sam with Cas watching in amusement. Taking over those animals was effortless. He hoped that this time would be similar.

At first there was a resistance to his intrusion. A blue light swirling angrily inside the body but somehow it actually recognized Dean and calmed significantly. The grace then started to swirl around Dean himself and he felt power flow through every wisp of his soul. Giving him almost too much energy. Dean was shocked and overwhelmed at the grace's eagerness to help Dean and he had to try and focus on one goal at a time. It felt similar to charging up from the wall sockets back at the bunker, but somewhat softer than chaotic and smelling like ash. Almost like all this energy is from more natural means – say, 30 cups of espresso.

First, Dean knew Arg had complete knowledge of the ward and its capabilities, so he made his way up into the head and brain. This vessel wasn't nearly as large as Cas's on the inside, but the grace did make it slightly larger to him. He looked out of the eyes momentarily to see that the monster was standing stock still, knife in one hand and shotgun in the other. Dean turned from the eyes back to the brain and jumped right in.

It was a mess in there. He could feel Arg struggling for control back from Dean who was possessing him, and the hairy bastard had the gall to think 'demon' over and over again. The soul sparked at the soft gray matter at that insult. Dean was aware that the weapons were dropped from that direct shock to the nervous system. He had to keep himself from doing it again because the werewolf troll would be useless to him if he were dead.

Dean was glad as hell that being a werewolf meant that the guy was part animal and not a full blood monster. He's not sure what would have happened to his soul if that was the case. Dean spread his soul out to cover every inch of the brain and concentrated on the memory section. Feeling Arg try and fight him non-stop, but Arg was as weak as a deranged puppy.

Dean finally found the ward and a whole library of research on how it was made. A bastardized version of a devil's trap and an Angel banishing sigil. Dean figured that the banishing part was for taking the grace away from the Angels, and the trap part was for containing it within the sigil itself. The vacuum motor and bag. He searched for a way to break it from the memories and after a solid minute of scanning memories, found something that he hadn't considered.

A way to reverse the ward entirely and give all that grace energy to the nearest grace growing being present. That would naturally be an Angel.

 _Holy shit_.

If this _worked?_

Dean wasted no more time and figured out how to get this hairy bastard moving. Picturing Arg as nothing more then a tall dog, he managed to get the legs working. They moved for a few steps but then the body fell down to all fours and it actually helped Dean picture a dog better, so he just made Arg move like one up the stairs and to the ward. He had to backtrack a few times when he quite literally ran headlong into obstacles, because Arg had to use doors and crap, where before, Dean's soul had just flown through the walls. Dean couldn't say he was sorry for the lumps in Arg's head. Bastard deserved it.

Arg must have figured out what Dean's intentions were up there and really started to fight for control of his own body back. A mantra of curses and begging inside the brain but Dean wasn't hearing it. He pushed the fore paws forward to touch the ward and angled the claws downwards. Arg pleaded with him one last time before Dean pulled the hands down and towards himself. Breaking the outer ring of the ward.

A brilliantly white flash of blue grace light burst from the ward and blinded Arg instantly. Dean felt the grace white flames himself before he was pushed right out of the writhing body a split second later. It was right when the Angelic grace decided to break open the body to get out, rather than leave peacefully through an already made entrance like a mouth or the eyes. Nope. The grace was incensed at being tortured and manipulated by something so vile and beneath them, that they ensured their former torturer wouldn't live another second. All that pent up grace blew up the vessel in a fantastic spray of monster parts.

That would have made Dean's eyebrows raise in surprise and maybe a touch of guilt for getting him killed like that, but he was too busy trying to keep himself from exploding right alongside the monster.

Dean's soul was caught up in the torrent of grace as it exploded outwards in every direction imaginable before it started funneling back inwards, into a terrifying whirlwind. It ignored all preconceptions of time and spacial dimensions as it passed through the floor and walls, gathering every bit of itself again, aiming for the still living Angel downstairs.

Dean felt like he was being charged up, electrocuted, and drained at the same time as grace passed through him and around him. He recognized the traces of Cas's own grace and tried to follow it but it was too busy trying to guide the rest of the grace to it's owner. Somehow it seemed sentient just enough to know where to go and Dean was caught up in the massive vortex.

Just a tiny human soul flickering in the maelstrom. Held fast by all of the graces so he couldn't possibly escape to a space with less mind scaring white light and high pitched screaming. At least it didn't seem to want him dead or burnt out, so he was still relatively in one piece. Relatively.

Dean lost consciousness when the grace punched through the ceiling of the prize room, and lit up Cas's vessel with the stolen power of 7 Angels.

Castiel had no idea what happened at first. He was frozen stiff inside that glass case, watching and listening to all the fights going on around him, then he felt the presence of several brothers cry out in ecstatic joy at being finally released from their torments. He then heard the exalted songs change to sorrow at the knowledge that they had nowhere to go, no _home_ anymore. The Angels they'd been stolen from had died.

Castiel felt his own grace sang a kind of rallying call above the din of woe, and the other graces fell in step. Better to be with a living Angel than dissipate into the land below. Becoming nothing more than tall trees in this Godforsaken building. The grace's had enough time being tortured and manipulated here to loath the very soil the building stood on, so the decision to leave on the last ship out was made unanimously and without even a hint of question or protest.

Castiel's grace knew the righteous man instantly. The minute Dean entered that other horrid monster, their profound bond identified the soul at first touch and held the small soul with as much care as it could, the entire time, protecting the fragile soul as best it could outside of the Angel's vessel. Castiel's grace cradled Dean's soul within itself until it thought that the soul would be fine among friends, then it started to wind around the others to keep them together. Guiding all of them down to that strong God-formed vessel below that it called home now that they were no longer being contained.

Castiel welcomed in every last grace into his vessel, instantly knowing each brother and sister the grace's had come from. Mourning the loss of his kin, and honoring their memory by carrying their essence for now. He felt them enter and told them all that he will gladly return them to Heaven if they wished to go.

Even as they settled within, they were healing the vessel when it seemed to stretch thin from the nearly overwhelming power. No vessel was strong enough to hold 8 Angel's graces, and Castiel fought hard to keep them together and calm. The glass case he'd been in was turned to sand but he still laid there. He was only distantly aware of what was going on outside of his body. Struggling to contain the massive amount of grace safely, without burning the eyes out of every living being around him. Or, a more harsh result being that he could be smiting them all to smithereens just because they were caught in the same mile wide radius.

“Peace! Brothers!” Castiel called out and felt the ground shake and knew glass was breaking all around. His true voice coming out while his concentration was inward. He whispered in what he hoped was English and not Enochian for the benefit of those on the mortal plane that still had functioning ears after that first blast, “You need to run.”

He waited for an age, sensing several dozen living things scatter away from him. It was infinitely hard to tell time at the moment, so he waited a little longer until he couldn't anymore.

Channeling the pent up energy into one huge blast. Forcing every non-biological thing present to crumble to dust. Not merely break apart, but obliterate it to dust. When he opens his eyes again, if even one stone was atop another of that building, he's gonna be pissed. Castiel was able to take a few breaths now that the grace was relatively calmed down. He kept his eyes closed tight in case there was still living things present that couldn't escape fast enough. Now that the non-biological cages were obliterated to dust, they should be able to leave this place, and save their eyes in the process.

Castiel knew that he'd blind anyone present if he opened his eyes, so he waited some more. The grace's inside him calmed significantly, telling him that it is safe now, sensing the wind blowing the dust away. If anything was buried underneath, they were free now.

Castiel tested out his formerly broken wings, stretching them up and out and was pleased to feel new feathers starting to grow. So much energy within, the graces wasted no time in healing every one of his wounds as a heartfelt thank you.

He said that he didn't do anything, and didn't know what happened to cause them to be free. And he reluctantly added that he had no idea they were even there to begin with.

They gently informed him that the righteous man freed them and his blue eyes shot open in shock.

“Dean!?” He cried out. Cursing himself for opening his eyes but then realized that Dean wouldn't be effected by it because he was already dead. A being made of its own compressed soul. The grace wouldn't hurt Dean. Intentional or otherwise.

Castiel crouched down and stumbled amid the piles of dust, searching frantically for any sign of the four inch tall hunter.

The graces told him he was a soul before, and might still be, but Castiel couldn't see anything of the sort. With so many graces within, it made it very hard to focus on finding a tiny light when everything was shining brilliantly bright. Every single thing was amplified 8 fold and he suddenly knew what Sam and Dean were saying about seeing with their soul-selves versus human. There was far too much information for the Angel. Too much to sift through and there was no 'toning it down' to simplify what he's looking at.

Each particle of dust showed its own chemical composition and signature. What it had been, what it could be in the future, its trajectory and how it interacted with each and every other particle of dust. That wasn't including all of the microscopic organisms that were in the air itself. The dance of light waves pouring out of every thing all around.

Castiel felt like he was going to be sick.

It was too much. Too overwhelming.

He clenched his eyes shut, but that only eliminated the visual overload. Now his auditory and tactile and olfactory sensors were boosting up to compensate.

Castiel whimpered at the onslaught, swallowing down the urge to expel the graces from his vessel. To gain a moment of silence and peace. It would be a crime against his kin, and he'd made a promise.

He sunk to his hands and knees, carefully. Cursing himself out for the shambling search he'd done first. Dean could have been crushed already from his frantic movements. Now, he breathed deep to calm down a bit and his fingers splayed out wide as they could go, feeling around for any sign of Dean in the piles of dust.

“If you can hear me, Dean. Please, tell me where you are. I don't know if you'd be able to come into the vessel, it's kinda, _full_ , at the moment.” He chuckled weakly. The graces inside swirled and settled once they healed his lungs of the suffocating clogging dust particles in the air.

Castiel waved his hand outwards, peeking an eye open so that he doesn't hurt anything, and pushed the dust up and away. With so much grace inside, eager to help, moving the several tons worth of dust was easy. First, clearing the ground and then clearing out all of the basement areas. The gaping hole dug from the earth from when the building was first made.

Castiel slid to his side, sitting on the ground, opening his eyes a little wider once he knew there was no living thing around save for the plants and microbes too small to care about grace light.

“Dean?” He said a pinch louder. Hopeful that he'll hear that confident voice call out, saying something snarky or some movie reference to aptly describe the situation. But he heard nothing.

He scanned the ground for the small body, and then the air around for the ball of soul light. Nothing. He opened up his wings, fuller now than before and still growing. Giving Dean a bigger visual target to find the Angel again.

No sign. Nothing.

“Dean... where are you?” He felt a tear fall from his eye. A trail of smeared dust darkening in the tear's path, and joined by several more.

Dean had saved him, saved everyone. But now, he's nowhere to be found.

A couple of the graces within sent condolences for the loss of his friend. Suggesting that Dean probably died in the blast. Castiel raged internally. Silencing the future commiserations before they start. “He isn't gone. He can't be. I will find him. With or without your help.” He stated plainly as possible. He knew that so long as they were inside his vessel, all of his senses and thoughts would be too cluttered and crowded to do him any good. Until he was back to being just himself, he wouldn't be able to find Dean. The analogy of finding the light of an ember while staring directly at the sun was apt for this situation. He was basically blinded by too much information.

“I will take you all to heaven, and return to find him.” He said and for the first time in years, he had the strength to fly with just his wings and his own grace. The others supplying what he needed to help him out. The doorway to heaven opened at his arrival. The guardians seeing that he was not alone and that time was limited. There was a slim chance that the fragmented graces could regrow their formal Angel selves with the host's rallying behind them with aide and support.

Castiel didn't have time for the host to decide where he should release them, opting instead to head for somewhere green. He allowed the graces to help him get there faster, and gladly let the graces go free inside The Garden. He felt somewhat drained and hollow for a few minutes, watching them dance in the air over the plants while he listed to the side standing there. They were all clearly thrilled to be in The Garden again, even if they're not whole.

He had tried to send all of the graces out, but found that there was a trace amount from all 7 of them. A thank you gift for the ride. It was enough to sustain him while his own grace healed and regrew. It would have taken him years to get back to the same levels that he'd had when Sam and Dean had died. He thanked them all, but had to return to Earth. He couldn't tell anyone why, fearing that there were those that would alert the Reapers to the brother's location.

He couldn't be too careful when there were so many Angels around.

Joshua knew what troubled Castiel and told him not to worry, that it will all work out in the end. His hands grazed down Castiel's partially regrown wings. Humming in delight that they were on the mend and the black feathers were handsome and strong. Indeed, he was getting several jealous glances for his working wings, and knew he would have to make a hasty exit before they asked how they could get their wings back again.

He shuddered at the thought of more Angels suffering at the hands of desperate Angels. The civil wars depleted their numbers too much for them to start cannibalizing their own kin just for a few working wings. Castiel pulled his close to himself, trying to hide the new feathers behind his tattered old ones from view as best he could.

Joshua noticed the move, and instantly understood why. The Gardener promised that he'll keep things in order, and, with a chuckle, told Castiel to move his ass. His little family needs him back home.

Castiel's eyes went wide and he felt himself stiffen up. He didn't think any of his living kin knew about the brothers current state of being, but it appeared that Joshua not only knew, but was doing his best to keep it a secret. To protect them from vengeful brothers and sisters. Castiel couldn't stop himself from taking those few steps closer and giving the Gardener a big hug. One he learned from Sam, earning a warm chuckle for the sentimental gesture and a few hearty pats back.

“Farewell, Castiel.” Joshua gently pushed him away and winked.

Cas wasted no more time in running back to the gate, to return to Earth and his family.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas rolled a 20 for perception. ;}


	29. In Light of this New Situation, Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been tongue tied before, but never quite like this.
> 
> Spoilers and trigger warnings maybe  
> there is vore here.   
> See end notes for how to avoid it if that's not your thing

Chapter Twenty Nine

In Light of this New Situation, _Panic_.

 

 

 

 

Dean didn't know what hit him. One second his soul was being caught up within the exuberantly dancing graces of 8 angels, swirling nearly uncontrollably down from the third floor to the first towards what he hoped was Cas's vessel, and the next moment? Darkness. If it wasn't Cas's vessel that they were headed to, he, and all of the graces were _so screwed_.

They'd all been weaving around his own tiny wisp of soul and then it felt like a concrete wall slammed into him and he was out like a light. Bad pun, but apt.

When he came to, there was an ear piercing tone that was making every living thing around him cry out themselves in pain. He recognized that pitch and tone from years ago. That was Cas's true voice, and it was making nearly everything hurt. Then, it stopped abruptly but it was far from quiet in the place Dean was in. All of the monsters and humans and things were still moaning and screaming about their ears and half of them complained about their eyes. Dean tried to focus on his surroundings and was surprised to see that he was in his solid form, laying flat on his back on the ground as titanic things shuffled overhead.

That alone was scary, but, in addition to them being skyscraper sized and stomping overhead, they were also basically blind and deaf. Even if they wanted to be mindful of their steps, they didn't know what was on the ground, but that didn't stop them from crashing into things left and right over Dean's head. Hands and limbs groping around to see where they were by touch. Debris started to fill the air and Dean thought that that could be a side effect from the graces exploding down into Cas's vessel. He had no idea.

He was shocked he himself wasn't blind from the white blast, and scrambled out of the way of a boot that nearly crushed him into the ground. Dean flipped over, head pounding and ears ringing from the sounds and fast huge movements all around him. Jolting him into action. He knew he had to get out from underfoot right now, so he picked a direction at random and started running as fast as he could.

Feet and hooves and tentacles pounded all around him as he swerved over and over to avoid them. Uncaring if he's spotted at the moment, more concerned with being turned into a pancake. Cas's voice came out again. Amplified and echoing strangely, but it almost sounded like he was trying to whisper.

“ _YOU NEED TO RUN_.”

Every monster and being around Dean halted their random movements and then, ran straight away in every direction from the voice. Dean ducked down into a tight ball and prayed that he wasn't going to be kicked by the panicking stampede. One set of thundering footsteps halted suddenly close to him and he turned his face upwards to see who it was and his heart sank. It was one of the women that bid on him earlier but this one had lost the auction. Dean uncurled from his position and sprang to his feet, started running hard for any kind of cover away from those greedy eyes, but it was hopeless.

Long fingers slithered around his body and tightened severely. The giant looked kinda like a high class business woman and the gleam in her eyes was chilling. Dean fought against the grip but the manicured fingers squeezed him even tighter as he was lifted from the ground and pulled along with her as she resumed her mad dash away from Cas.

He didn't know if he should be grateful or not for the faster getaway from the angel that might just turn nuclear. There was a reason why Cas was warning everyone to run away from him. It didn't sound like something pleasant was going to happen.

Dean only got a glimpse of his angel and tried to call out to him but the building simply _exploded_ in a mountain sized cloud of dust. Half burying the woman who was only partway through the auction room. She lifted her prize up to her mouth and Dean choked out a scream when she clamped fangs around his body to free up her hands. Dean fought against the fangs but they kept piercing his clothes and skin. He cried out each time, feeling his soul roil beneath the surface. Hating that it hurt so much he had no chance of keeping in the screams. He certainly couldn't focus enough to shift back into his soul form, too much pain clouding all of his senses.

His body was held sideways as if she was carrying him like a cat carries it's kittens, but she was far from gentle about it. The position left him a few options of viewpoint, none of them enjoyable. Her large dark red throat flexed to his left, heaving moist breaths past the obstruction that was him, and to his right, clouds of dust blinded him completely as she practically swam through the tons of dust to get away from the angelic epicenter. Between the mouth and the dust, he was coated in sludge almost instantly but the pain caused by her fangs blotted out how disgusting he looked.

The dust suddenly started to clear from the area, blown away by hurricane force winds. The woman herself tumbled and rolled away and caught herself on a tree that had managed to survive the blasts. Dean felt the giant scale up the tree moments after running into it. Dean coughed and gagged on the dust, pushing for some room inside her mouth that salivated all over him and turned the dust into thicker mud. She herself got a lot of it into her throat since her mouth was open, and spat Dean out in a hand. She coughed up what she'd accidentally swallowed, cursing everything under the sun. Dean had to hold on or else risk being dropped and stomped on because she kept staggering about further away.

Dean rubbed the dust and saliva sludge from his face onto the only slightly cleaner part of the inside of his clothes. Twisting to get another clean section of clothing from the inner part of his jacket that had been resting on his back. His eyes now clear, he saw that the clothing was slowly healing again. His soul struggling to keep himself from leaking his energy out of the puncture wounds. At least that still worked out for him. He had no idea what he'd do if it didn't heal. Probably fade away if his soul kept on dissipating out into the air. It was different than how he manifests things, and have the pieces of soul return to his chest when he's solid like this. He didn't have control, didn't plan for his own soul to leave him like he was bleeding out. Dean shivered at the feelings of loss.

The palm he'd been sitting on tilted and the fingers snapped around him once again. She held his midsection and legs but left his arms free to move around. He tried punching her index finger that was across his back to move the damned finger out of the way so he could grab his gun but it was like trying to shove a fleshy tree trunk that was as wide as he was.

Dean twisted in the grip to look around himself and was dismayed to see how far they'd gotten from the angel smited building. All that was there now was a hollowed out hole where the basement had been. Dean inhaled as much as he could and was about to call out for Cas but only got as far as the first letter before that index finger finally moved. It shoved him down deeper into her fist and his head would have been snapped backwards from the force if it was angled the wrong way.

He struggled harder and when the finger adjusted, he saw Castiel in the distance stand up next to the hole in the ground. A pair of wings appeared in the air behind him. Shadowy outline in the lingering dust that the normal, natural wind kicked back into and around the area. Dean dug his elbow between two fingers to see that the wings were actually growing new feathers. Or he thought they were. Going by the lengthening shadows in the air behind Cas.

Dean felt his heart soar at seeing those wings start to heal and knew that it was thanks to those angel's graces he released. Castiel was practically lighting up the whole area with his glow. Every single pore on his skin was leaking the blue white grace light. Dean swallowed hard. Joy gradually turning to dread. That's not normal. None of that was normal. That vessel was _going to blow_. There was too much energy and power in there like a water balloon fit to burst. Wearing thin and practically translucent. Dean remembered back when Cas had the Leviathan inside him. Leaking black goo from every pore. Now it was grace light pouring out of him. Dean was horrified to see the light intensify drastically before a flash and then nothing.

Castiel disappeared.

Vanished.

Dean gaped at the spot but there was absolutely nothing. No angel, no body, not even char marks on the cement.

He was aware that the only reason he was able to see Cas there for so long while being stuck in the closed fist was because his captor had been standing and watching as well. Holding deathly still while spying on the angel to see what enfolds. A morbid curiosity.

When Cas disappeared, the woman sighed in relief and Dean felt himself lift up into the air again, the hand turning and tilting before opening up to reveal her prize. Dean was laying on his back, breathing hard and trying to think straight. What exactly did he just see? He was more worried about Cas than himself right now. Did his angel just disintegrate into the air? Was the grace too much for him and he exploded? Turned mini supernova? That much grace could have obliterated every last speck of his vessel so it was entirely possible that he just witnessed Cas's ultimate death.

The woman's face above him was frowning down at him. Her other hand let go of the tree branch she was holding onto to stay steady up in this tree, to come over and poke Dean's side. Trying to get a reaction.

Dean was near catatonic. Cas. His best friend. His brother. Just died. He died. He couldn't have flown away because he said he wasn't able to do that anymore. No angel could since The Fall. The vessel was stretched way too thin. The grace too strong. Flying anywhere like that would have torn him apart. And Dean didn't hear the old familiar wing beats. He held onto the hope that it was because he was so far away but more and more, he thought about what likely happened to Castiel.

Dean had only seen angels glow like that when they were dying. Stabbed by an angel blade or being blown up by another angel. Fuck. It was probably one of the angel's graces that did it. They probably thought that Cas was responsible for their imprisonment and punished him for it. When Dean was caught up in the torrent, he didn't get the impression that they'd want to be contained again against their will. So Cas was the one that they poured all their revenge into. All that anger and hate probably returned the second they entered his vessel and realized they were trapped yet again, and they _killed_ him for it.

Dean just got Cas killed. It's his fault. He was just trying to help... but instead... he killed Cas.

The finger that had been poking him, switched to pinching his arm tightly between the index finger and thumb, a claw coming out of the nail bed to scratch at his shoulder.

Dean finally snapped out of his stupor at the enraged snarl coming from the woman. Realizing that she'd been trying to get a reaction out of him for some time now. He winced at the pressure and jerked his arm in the grip. Blinking a few times to clear his mental images of watching Cas die so absolutely. So horribly. There was nothing the small, 4 inch man could do to help. He was too weak to save his friend, but he was strong enough to kick-start the murder by destroying the containment sigil. He was the cause of all this. He thought he was _helping_. He fucked _everything_ up. It's all his fault. All his fault.

He thrashed in her tight grip, seeing how far down the ground was from her perch and pushed against her fingers harder to get loose. To go over the edge. He wanted to run. To hide. From the world and himself. He got his best friend killed. Cas was a brother to him and he's dead. Everyone that gets close to him dies. All his fault.

The woman muttered to herself, flipping Dean over again in her hand, turning him this way and that and frowning severely at him. “I like it when their a little scared, but this one's mind is broken. I don't like it when their suicidal, they never last long.” She tsked at him. She held out her hand a little ways from herself and released her fingers from around his body, testing to see what he'd do on her palm.

Dean sat upright and turned to look back at the destroyed site. Nothing was there anymore. He pushed himself to his feet and took those few steps towards the edge of her hand and jumped.

She caught him in her other hand that was waiting for this foolish move, and gripped him in a too tight fist. “Stupid, stupid thing.” She huffed in disappointment.

She didn't know that Dean was aiming to force himself to change into his soul self. It had happened before to Sam when he was falling. But only managed to get a few seconds of freedom before he was right back in a fist. Pain in his chest and gut returning full force to keep him from focusing clearly enough to shift the other way.

She talked to herself some more since it didn't look like her catch was smart enough to speak anymore. “Well... at least I didn't loose any money on it. Stupid thing. Such a waste.” She grumbled and started to descend the tree. Brushing her dirtied suit off with her free hand and looking Dean over again. “That crooked auction house probably staged the whole thing. Pathetic.” She started walking and Dean was ignored in her hand as it lowered down to her pants pocket. He was shoved inside and pressed up against her leg as she kept on walking. The pressure tightening and releasing with the steady rhythm of her gait.

Dean would have normally tried to escape but he was still struggling to figure out what the hell happened. Cas wasn't there anymore, that was for certain, but he didn't know where 'there' was in the first place. He'd been inside Cas's vessel for most of the trip so he had no idea what city this was, or even what state. He just knew that there was nothing here worth staying for. And if he's stuck again in his solid form, he'd be stuck here for ages. Alone. No chance in hell of just hiking out to civilization on his own. Some animal would pick him off overnight. He'd have no chance to survive on his own so he didn't fight the new imprisonment. Might as well hitch a ride with this woman. He had no energy to fight anymore.

Nearly totally drained from everything that happened. Everything that he did. Everything he's responsible for. He felt he doesn't deserve to make it out of here a free man since he got his angelic brother killed. It was not on purpose, but it happened all the same.

Dean had no idea where home was, his internal compass was shot to hell. He felt nothing but sadness and guilt. Dean shook himself out after ten minutes of the woman's walk. Apparently the vehicle that she came in was missing. Likely something stole it to escape faster. Her cursing and petulant stomps clued Dean in into what was likely going on outside of the pants pocket.

He felt the hand push in on him from outside and she stopped walking to fumble her fingers into his space. Pinching around his chest and dragging him up and out. Her eyes flickered like a cats before returning to something resembling human again. Whatever she was thinking of wasn't said out loud, but Dean could tell that he wasn't going to like the outcome either way.

She brought him back up to her mouth and he saw it widen farther than any humans, her hand lifted him up higher still, and let him dangle over her open maw for a second before the fingers let him go. His arms and legs flailed in the air as he plummeted down into her waiting maw. The terrifying teeth and tongue stretched wide as he landed on the long pink tongue on his stomach. Before he could move, the tongue pulled him in further, past the ring of fangs and normal teeth so he wouldn't be bitten in half as the mouth closed around him. The tongue pushed him just far enough out so his shoes could be pinched by her front teeth. His hands shot forward to keep himself from slipping down the saliva coated tongue into her throat a scant few inches away. Uvula bobbing about as her breath passed his chamber to exit her nose above. Air from the lungs whooshing noisily all around him. A heartbeat felt all around him but nearly drowned out by the sickening sounds of saliva shifting to and fro from her tongues movements. Bubbles in the saliva forming and popping as he struggled to push back from the throat and outside the mouth again. Churning up the saliva and triggering her mouth to create more of the juices.

The tongue slowly curled around him in its own slimy grip, and the teeth let go of his feet just long enough for her to pull him fully into her mouth but not into her throat. Not just yet. He was twisted and turned in the tight space as more saliva coated every inch of his body. The heat of her mouth intensified greatly and the air in the chamber vibrated from the loud moan of pleasure that escaped her. Dean found himself helpless to fight against the long strong muscle that wrapped around him and pushed him side to side. Rubbing his body against her cheeks and teeth only to move up to the soft palate roof to pin him there as the tongue slid and slithered all over his body. Curling around his face and making him choke from the lack of air. He pushed his hand in front of his mouth to keep from swallowing her saliva and the tongue finally relented only to let him fall back down to the side of the mouth where the muscle then made him lay out next to and underneath it.

Dean felt a wave of movement as she swallowed the ample saliva from her mouth and she let in a bit of air to keep him conscious. She'd done this before.

There was a loud rumbling purr coming from deeper within her chest and he felt himself move back towards the throat but it was only until his body equaled the inertia of her walking forward again. Apparently she wanted to savor this treat for a few minutes while standing still, before returning to her journey.

She didn't take him back out as she walked, continuing to flip him around, licking his legs, face, arms, butt. Spending a good minute suckling his whole left arm with the base of her tongue as he pushed and kicked at the gums and underside of her tongue to free his arm again. Playing with him, showing him how helpless he is to fight against her. She had to swallow numerous times and each time Dean thought that was the last. He'll go down the hatch when he no longer has any original flavor left for her to steal.

He was moved too much to reach behind himself and grab the back of his jacket, lift it and manifest his gun. He was twisted and turned and dizzy as hell after the first five minutes and every time he found his arms free, it was his midsection that was held fast. Blocking the gun and any hope of defending himself.

His world was hot, slimy, wet, red, and rumbling with a bone shaking purr. He couldn't breath well but he didn't suffocate. She'd let in just enough air to keep him alive and awake enough to struggle. Thinking that he needed the air to live. He had to remind himself over and over that he wont die from this, even though it sure as shit felt like it. If she swallowed him now, he'd just sit inside her stomach and be stuck there. There was no meat to his bones to break down in the digestive juices. And he was simply too big to move further along the digestive track as he is now. He could give her an ulcer or twenty before she vomited him back up, but that's the extent of damage he could do. He wondered if it would hurt, like a lot of things do to him. His mind is a hell of a thing. Dean wouldn't put it past it to make him feel the acids in the stomach as if they were burning him. His time in Hell had its fair share of horrors and Alistair was fond of acids during the later half of the second decade. So he does remember and know what that would feel like, and he does NOT want an encore.

Dean did not want to think about any of that, but being stuck between a long curved wall of fangs and teeth and a throat that sloped down into the abyss kinda took up all of his attention and mental capacity.

His mind started to crack along the edges the longer he was in there. Hardly able to tell up from down anymore as she kept on suckling on his body like he was a delicious lollipop. Saliva constantly swirling around him and soaking him head to toe.

Then, there was a pause in the walk and Dean felt the tongue turn him around one last time so that his feet were angled towards the throat and his body was lined up to go straight in while he lay on his back. It took him a few seconds to realize his alignment and what that meant for him. He couldn't move his hands or legs the way the tongue flattened and folded up and around him on both sides. He could turn his head to look up and behind himself somewhat, and saw the lips part wider for the first time in ages and let in some more air before the lungs exhaled in a long rush of spent breath.

He heard the contented sigh in surround sound and felt another rush of chilled air on another inhale. She stood wherever she was and just breathed for a few seconds. He knew what she was deciding. To just swallow him down now, or spit him out. There really was only one outcome.

He wiggled a little, letting her know that he's still alive in there and her tongue started to pull him closer to the back of the throat. He struggled harder and managed to get his hand maneuvered behind his back and slide his gun up and out of its hiding place. The tongue undulated around him at the movements and she hummed noisily in delight that he was still alive.

She wouldn't be so happy in a second. Dean managed to find enough mirth in him to smirk as he cocked the hammer back and started firing at the tongue beneath his back at an angle to maximize destruction. The bullets were made out of his soul and therefore lit up the mouth with each flash, brighter than any normal bullet before they returned to his chest where the pieces of soul belonged.

The tongue that had been his torturer recoiled and was half swallowed in her shock and panic. He heard the surprised shriek all around him. His world bounced all around him, the tongue letting go completely but now he was slipping down deeper into her throat as she hissed in pain with her head angled upwards. He brought the gun in front of himself and started emptying round after round at the throat and roof of the mouth. Aiming the vast majority of his never ending bullets at the place he was slipping into. Letting her know, under no uncertain terms, what she's in for if she doesn't let him out _right the fuck now_.

Thick blood spattered all over the mouth before it finally shifted forwards and he was slipping quickly away from the black red throat and towards the front teeth again. He kept up his attack as the tongue beneath him quickly flattened out to expedite his exit. The jaw dropped and he felt himself sliding down the now extended tongue on out. Falling a short distance to her hand again. The second he was out, she was gagging and coughing raggedly into her other hand. Spitting out blood and crying out in pain. Eyes watering and nose running. Blubbering about how much it hurt.

His soul bullets lit up the area between himself and her neck, as they zipped straight right through her neck and back into his chest. Unhindered by anything solid once they returned to their soul form. Dean didn't bother sitting up on her palm, he just kept on firing at her face, forcing her to pull him away in fresh shock and dismay. She nearly let him go entirely just to make it stop before she shoved her other hand around him and clutched his body tight. Retraining him completely and making his bones creak from the pressure.

She cursed and shrieked at him and held him even tighter. Claws fully extended and threatening to tear him apart. She growled and spat out more blood as she glared at his smug grin. She did, however, make him flinch when she snapped her fangs within an inch of his face. The percussion of power stunned him by how close it came to biting his face off.

She hissed angrily at him and she let go with her left hand so that her right that still held him tight could be punched downwards. His head swam from the swift and terrifying drop and he would have gotten whiplash if his head wasn't pinned right at her index finger. Immobilizing him head to toe.

The woman resumed her march along the path she'd been taking this whole time with an even more determined gait. Grumbling to herself and hissing at him every once in awhile. Shaking her captive every other step just to make him that much more scared that she would kill him outright. Squash him completely in her fingers. His vision swam from the sway in the arm, with the world rocking violently around him. Worse than any amusement park ride, she wanted him to suffer.

Dean just wanted it to _stop_.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If vore isn't your thing, I'd skip the second half of this chapter.  
> It starts at 'She brought him back up to her mouth -' and ends just before the last four paragraphs.  
> smooth sailing after that guys :)   
> I've written a lot of vore scenes before, and this one went a different route than the others. no crushing, because that's not what I'm into. no digestion or 'full tour'. but it is mentioned briefly.
> 
> So the next chapter is half written, it was originally in this one but I had to split it up because it was getting too long and rambling.   
> I hope you enjoy and leave a comment or kudos to feed the writers!


	30. Neon Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is finding out first hand, what a pet store mouse feels like.

Chapter Thirty:

Neon Lights

 

 

The return to Earth was not heralded by any of his angelic kin, but he himself felt like singing. He was free, and soon, he would return to his small family. Finding Dean should be, as Dean puts it, 'Easy peasy lemon squeezy'. He walked a short distance away from the gate and turned to face the demolished auction house's location again. Castiel was about to fly straight there when he realized that when he left that place, he was too overwhelmed by the 7 other angel graces inside him to actually pay attention to that specific geographical location. He knew the general area, IE, the state and county, but not the precise location because of the massive information that had been shoved down his throat at the time of his departure.

The info he was able to keep clear was based more on the local flora and fauna and angle of the sunlight he saw in the area just after he destroyed the building and before he flew away from that awful place to get here. He wasn't intending the bits of information to be used as a map, but it was the best he had right now to retrace his flight.

Castiel stood there, in the playground, amid a few young children playing tag all around him. The sandbox he arrived in was still guarded by the pair of angels, and they too were watching the children. Merely making sure the youngsters didn't get too close to the gateway to Heaven. His arrival was shielded from view of the normal humans.

He looked down when he felt a slight tug on his long trench coat and was witness to a shy smile beaming up at him past a head full of tightly curled black hair. The little girl's mouth had a bit of ice cream smeared across her lip and she lifted up a half melted cone at him.

The whole thing made him pause in his serious contemplation's to view this small child as she insistently tugged at his coat and shoved the ice cream upwards with a soft grunt.

Castiel looked around for the parents but the mothers were deep in conversation across the park. He frowned at the complete lack of attention being given to their offspring. He knew what he looked like to people. The Winchesters chided him often enough to know that generally speaking, people who wear long trench coats in playgrounds are viewed with harsh assumptions. He tried to look as nonthreatening as possible and took a knee to be more at her level. She grinned wider and shoved the ice cream at his mouth.

Startled at the unexpected move, he backed up from the pro-offered cone and fell onto his butt. The girl squealed happily and danced around him. Babbling in that way that toddlers do. He righted himself again and sensed something off about the girl. Nothing sinister, but, she was not entirely well.

He made sure the parents weren't looking, because some things are hard to explain, as he discretely lifted two fingers to her forehead and healed her of the cancer that she was already developing. Thankful that she never felt it's bite. She blinked at him mutely and then the ground before giggling as if nothing happened.

Castiel got to his feet again, pat her shoulder and started walking towards the parents. The little girl followed but he and her ice cream cone were forgotten when she was distracted by a passing insect.

Castiel took a moment to lean on the bench the parents were at and said, “Children are precious.” Remembering to smile politely and utilizing the numerous lessons Dean had drilled into him to appear less creepy and otherworldly to normal humans. He glared at the cigarette hanging from the mother's mouth.

She turned her own glare at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Your child had stage one cancer that she likely got from third hand smoke. Nitrosamines are just one of several toxic chemicals that precipitate out of secondhand smoke, coating walls, furniture, clothing and carpets. Infants and small children are at particular risk, as they crawl around through the residue and suck on fingers, toys and other objects. Even if you do not smoke in her presence at home, she still is _constantly_ exposed.” He said solemnly and nodded in the child's direction again. “She is too young to die of cancer. No one should have to suffer from an avoidable fate. Wouldn't you agree?” His eyes were kind, and sad, that the mother didn't immediately take what he was saying to heart. He could see that she was more suspicious of him speaking of her child at all.

He frowned a little and before she could react, lifted two fingers to her head and healed the cancer within her lungs as well. The other mother there went wide eyed and reached for her cell phone.

“She shouldn't loose her mother, either.” Castiel said. “If you value life, you must put it before this deadly habit.” Motioning towards the box of cigarettes. He was able to safely get rid of the nicotine addiction in her body, but it was up to her to thoroughly clean house, and stay clean herself. He nodded with a reassuring grin that he believes she can do it, and flew off from the park towards his own family.

He landed closer to where the auction house was located, but it looked like a normal city. Unsure if it was the right one or not. It had felt amazing to be able to heal again without feeling ill himself. He lifted his hands and wriggled his fingers. A soft power that he hadn't felt in ages returning. For once, things were starting to look up. He wished he could heal the world but for now, he had to focus on his own small world. Dean was out there, alone, helpless, and probably scared.

Castiel firmed his jaw and started walking. Searching every street and ally for the place where the damned auction house had been. He wont stop searching. His wings ached a little. The brand new feathers had only just started to grow in, and to be put through four different flights in such a short time had already started to make his wings sore. Sparing them as they healed, he put his feet to work. Casting out his senses for the small soul. He would have flown to the bunker to meet up with Sam, Claire and Jody, but he didn't know if he'd have near enough strength in his wings for a return trip here with others in tow. He would have called if he'd had a cell phone and having to search for one would waste precious time finding Dean. There was no telling what the small hunter was going through right now. Where he was, or what condition he was in.

Castiel couldn't wait hours for backup to arrive, he had to find Dean _now_. Dean was his responsibility, and he'd failed several times in keeping him safe. He wont fail again.

 

 

Dean tried to squirm out of the tight grip the clawed fingers had around him, but he wasn't released again and the pressure never abated. Not even for a second or an inch. Finally, the woman that had stolen him from the auction house had arrived wherever she was heading. Her clothes were illuminated by several neon lights. He couldn't read what the lights said from his position, just that they were red and yellow going by the reflections in her sharp claws that wrapped around him. She pushed the front door open after straitening out her dusty clothes and they entered to the cheerful dinging sound of a bell over the door frame.

Dean stilled his struggles as the atmosphere around him shifted slightly. The woman paused in her walk to take a look around the store first before picking up the pace again, heading towards a counter along the right hand wall. The thick fingers shifted around him, covering him head to toe and he tried a few more times to pull his gun from between her tree trunk thick fingers. Switching to try and manifest his pocket knife instead, but her grip tightened around him to halt any and all movement. Dean wheezed and his vision danced.

He heard muffled voices past the index finger before he felt the hand shift and loosen a fraction around him. As if she just remembered that she wanted him alive. Feeling like she was trying to gesture but with her hand occupied, she couldn't do much with the hand he was in, besides wave him around. His stomach protested every one of the movements.

She curbed her speech from spitting out the profanities that had been aimed at him for the past ten minutes, but Dean figured from the tone and tempo of the strange words, that she really fucking wanted to curse to emphasize her point. There was a reply in the same strange language that was in a slightly calmer manner, sounding distinctly male and huge by how low and rumbling the voice was. He surmised it was the shop owner, and he dreaded where this was going without needing to speak the language.

She had tried eating him before, but he was literally too aggressive and painful to swallow whole and alive. Opening fire repeatedly inside a waiting mouth, tended to make one shy of repeating the act. So maybe this was some kind of butcher shop or restaurant. One that caters to monsters that is running under everyone's noses. Dean wondered at the implications of this. How many stores doubled their clientele by serving monsters? He'd found out today that there were more out there than he'd ever known. Maybe not all of them were stupid and reckless. This could be a store that processes humans for consumption in a more civilized way than chomping down on humans in the woods.

Dean heard her lick her lips and that's all the confirmation he needed. _Fuck_. He's going to be 'properly' prepared as her meal. Served with a side of potatoes and gravy and a fucking side salad. Reduced from the great Dean Winchester, hero of the world, to some random monster's dinner. He didn't even know her name.

He kicked and squirmed, and even resorted to biting her finger but his round human teeth never broke the surface or even made a dent in the thick skin of her fingers. Best he did was make them twitch around him as they discussed something overhead like he wasn't even there or sentient enough to understand. She sounded like she was trying to convince the store owner of something going by the tone of the exchange of words between them.

The talking stopped over his head, and Dean heard the second giant make a pleased sound before he walked away. Feeling her body huff and growl in slight annoyance told him that she didn't get exactly what she wanted. Aimed directly at him of course.

He couldn't move at all, arm twisted next to himself this whole time, gun half mangled between two huge fingers and only his index finger wrapped around the butt of the handle. His hand couldn't wrap around it fully, nor move away far enough for it to dissipate into his soul again to reform it back to normal. As huge as these fingers were around him, they were adept at keeping him held fast and unmoving.

He wanted to see the damage he'd done to the bitch himself, wanted to keep squeezing off round after round into her for the continuing humiliating assault. Punish her for this treatment like the monster she is.

The other giant returned and Dean was thrust away from her body towards the other form. The hands flattened out from around him and tilted downwards a split second later. He fell what to him felt like 8 feet down, onto a hard surface. Landing on his side with his muscles cramping terribly. There was a circle underneath him and it activated wherever he touched. He didn't feel anything much. Just a tingling sensation in his skin. His gun was gone. Likely dropped when he fell and therefore returned to his chest like everything else he'd managed to manifest before. He reached behind his back for it again but found that it wasn't there.

Dean groaned. Taking in the circle beneath him again and recognizing it as one of the ones that was at the auction house. Apparently the bitch told this other guy what to do to keep him harmless. He rolled onto his back from his hurt side and took in his surroundings above. Both giants were leaning over him and watching his every move. He tried his best to ignore the prying eyes as his own minuscule greens took in this new hell.

Dean saw a huge machine next to his spot on what he assumed was a counter since it was made of glass and he saw numerous rows of packages below himself all being lit up by tubes of neon lights. Another turn of his head revealed more packages and large hoops of leather with buckles at the bottom. Attached to cardboard backings, he angled his head to read it better and the words made more sense. Collars on sale. Buy one get one.

Weird thing to have in a diner... or maybe monsters wanted their lunch to be tied up while they're eaten alive?

Dean turned to look behind the second giant to see bags as large as houses all lined up on shelves along the wall and they were for various animals. He saw some with pictures of rabbits, dogs, cats, iguanas and even a few with some monsters on them. Smaller creatures that weren't strictly common in normal stores. The shelf those were on had been flipped out from a hidden section of wall going by the scraped paint along the ceiling in a semicircle. That shelf was pulled out for the eyes of the shop owner's fellow monsters. Tucked away again for the human shoppers.

Dean turned back to the woman when she folded her arms in front of herself, but far enough from the circle he laid on. He got to shaky feet and could see past her now, at the rest of the store he was in.

A pet store.

He was in a fucking _pet store_.

The store owner was rattling off numbers mixed in with that language and she was shaking her head, talking about what all went down earlier and no doubt bragging about how much Dean had gone for back at the auction house. Pantomiming part of her harrowing journey to get him here.

That revelation made the store owner shy away from her, looking like he was about to change his mind but she went wide eyed and agreed immediately to the last offer he'd made.

The store owner frowned deeply and suspiciously at her. Leaning in again into Dean's space to look at him closer. He was covered in blood and drying saliva. Dean sat up and folded his arms as he faced the giant head on. A middle finger casually lifted up at him like the giant wasn't worth a more creative insult.

That gesture turned out to to be the exactly wrong move to make, because the store owner smiled wide again. Nodding a few times before his hand was lifted and brought over Dean, casting him in shadow as it dove towards the woman. She grinned back and shook his hand readily. Her finger extended towards Dean one last time when the store owner turned to grab something from under the counter and she poked Dean hard in the chest with her claw. He stumbled back and bit back a cry of pain as the soul light flashed for a second from the new hole in his skin. He covered it up with both hands, curling around his midsection as she smirked down at him in triumph.

Dean was about to shout at her but kept his mouth shut. Something that that striped cat had said back at the auction house, that the fellow feline would be more valuable if it was confirmed that he knew how to talk. That he was intelligent. Ed was talking about Jack, but Dean knew that it would relate to him as well. Not wanting to let the cat out of the bag, he bit back his retort and let the interaction continue on over head. A small pile of cash was handed over and she waved the store owner a cheerful goodbye.

Once she'd left, the man leaned back down to him again. Cooing at his small form and wiggling his sausage fingers in the air out of Dean's reach like one would tease a puppy. Dean kept his scowl on his face and turned away from the demeaning sounds.

In doing that, he saw dozens of fish tanks and cages with all kinds of normal animals inside, along with a second tall shelf system of small abnormal animals and monsters. Numerous neon lights showed off the products and even a few animals that glowed in the different lights. Parts of the store looked like a psychedelic day-glow poster for potheads. But that was 90% the tanks residence and not the décor.

Not nearly as impressive as the auction's living items, but still, this store was not meant for only normal humans to shop in. That monster caged section was hidden away just like the merchandise behind the counter, only this time it was by a thin fake wall that had advertisements and posters on it for name brand pet foods. The two inch fake wall was peeking out from the side, and must run along the track in the floor and ceiling. In place, it wouldn't appear abnormal for it to be there. Dean had to admit the whole store's set up was brilliant, but for him, chilling at the same time. It meant that if he were to be sold here, it wouldn't be to a normal human family. It would be to monsters.

Dean turned at the sound of the shop owner shifting in place to lock up the safe again. While the giant was leaning over, the small hunter got a closer look at the name tag, 'Trent'. Dean was not expecting that normal name for this monster. He watched the man leave him there on the counter to go into the back room.

He wasted no time in trying to make a break for it, but the sigil stopped him in his tracks. He punched at the invisible barrier and kicked at the glass counter beneath him. He'd finally escaped the auction house but he still ended up in captivity. Dean wondered if some monster family was going to come and buy him as a little pet. Take him home and keep him inside an aquarium for the rest of time. He can't actually die again, so whoever buys him will likely die and pass him on to someone else. Or, more likely, they'll get bored with having the same old pet and replace him with something a bit more sociable and friendly. Dean's certainly not going to make it easy on his future owners.

Dean heard the store owner rummage around and finally return with a deep Tupperware bowl with the words, 'Tippy's food' in marker on the side. Dean's eyes went wide and he backed up as far as he could before the sigil stopped him in his tracks. He hadn't considered that there was a chance he wasn't going to be a pet, that he'd actually be _food_ for one of the things here. Something named ' _Tippy_ ' for fuck's sake.

He's going to be eaten by some stupid fluffy dog or some shit. Or hell, something that feeds on humans since even though he's small, he still looks human. Maybe Tippy is a baby human eating monster that can't go after full grown humans yet. Awesome. Eaten by a baby monster. Spending the rest of eternity inside the stomach of that monster since he'd _still_ be too big to be digested and move along to the intestines. _Fucking awesome._

Either that, or else he'd be thrown up when it's obvious that having an indigestible lump of tiny human inside Tippy's stomach is making the thing sick. Maybe even cut up after that to make his body easier to go down. Only to find out after the first long slice of his shrunken body, that he's nothing more than soul light before he dissipates into the aether or have Reapers collect the bits afterwards. Throwing what's left of his soul into the empty. He had forgotten about Reapers until now because he had other worries on his mind. If this shop owner, 'Trent' chops him up for Tippy's food, then he might alert the Reapers that there is a soul exposed raw outside of a body that is not a normal ghost. Dean's not even sure if he'd prefer the empty over having to suffer through being eaten by a monster like that. Dean rubbed at the healing hole in his chest from that bitch's claw.

How did this become Dean's life? _Afterlife_?

All through his disgusted musings, the giant, Trent, had been moving other things around further down on the counter past the building sized register and key-chain display. Dog chews and cat toys that were set up in glass jars for that last impulse buy. Dean felt so small standing there. Out-sized by damned cat toys. Thoughts of being bought by someone that wants him for a cat toy rattled around in his head and he hugged himself tighter around the claw wound. That could be his fate. Tossed around like a toy, bitten, clawed, mangled. All while giants laughed at their precious cat's antics. Taking video to post online of how funny and cute they're acting. Chuckling at Dean's futile attempts to get away.

The store owner suddenly appeared again, and without a seconds hesitation, the meaty hand wrapped around him and lifted him away from the sigil. Trent carried him over to the recently wiped out and cleaned Tupperware for Tippy, and dropped inside from a few inches above ground this time. Still, 5 feet to him wasn't that much better than the 8 foot drop earlier. Dean fell onto his butt at the rough treatment and watched helplessly as the lid was fastened onto it. The walls and floor of the Tupperware were only partially see through so it made everything have this hazy outline like looking through thick fog. He felt the heavier thumps of the footsteps as he was taken away from the main part of the store, to the back room and then into an even darker space. Too dark to make out any shapes or things as they also passed by his container too fast to focus on.

Dean's Tupperware prison was set down somewhere and he got to his feet again to stand at one of the walls, pressing an ear against the container to hear a happy kind of hum as the store owner did whatever he was doing. Sounds of water running and hands washing. Dean's Tupperware was lifted again and he slid away from the wall and hit his head against the wall opposite from the sudden force. The lid popped off from overhead and he saw the spout of a faucet over head. Two arms reached higher up and while one turned on the water, the other went for a soap dispenser bottle. The hand angled the soap dispenser downwards as warm water rose quickly around his waist. Several pumps of soap splashed and landed next to him and was churned up by the falling water into a thick foamy mess. Dean's space was rapidly filling up with the mixture of water and soap bubbles and he felt weightless again. Then the water stopped and he tried to keep his head above the waterline as Trent's face peered inside and down at him treading water.

The lid returned overhead and Dean felt the Tupperware container lift back up and shake him about. Starting off with a gentle sloshing back and forth, turning more violent. The water slammed him into the walls over and over as it crashed and shook around him. He felt weightless and heavy as the container went from sloshing side to side to up and down. Helpless to fight against the water's force as it changed direction every second.

The guy was fucking washing him like one would get milk residue out of a milk jug to prepare it for recycling. The store owner didn't want to do it by hand so he's choosing to do it this way. Dean missed Arg's slightly gentler method with a burning fiery passion right about now as he ran into wall after wall. The soapy water was now more foam and bubbles then actual water and he found it infinitely hard to breath in. Tasting the soap every time he opened his mouth. Felt it go up his nose and in his ears. Loud popping of each bubble around him. Cloying on his skin. The worst part was that his eyes burned from it so he couldn't even see what was happening. Not that the tiny brief peeks showed anything besides the white mass of bubbles. Surrounded on all sides of the stuff even as the violent shaking ceased. His head still swam in eddies and he just wanted the world to stop moving for five seconds.

The lid was removed again with a sharp pop, but that was only so that more warm water could be added to the mix. The level rose, taking him with it as he kept kicking his legs to keep from going underwater. Fighting against the current that threatened to pull him under and keep him there. The foam was heard falling over the sides of the Tupperware and he felt the edges of the container with his hands, pulling himself towards the side to cough and hack out the soap and water over the edge.

A giant hand forced him back under and wiggled him around for a few seconds before deciding to lift him up and out. He gripped onto the fingers desperately, hoping that he wont be dropped back inside again. The hand shifted him lower to the fingers that pinched around his back and chest and shook him over the sink. Water droplets the size of baseballs fell down his face and arms, falling stories below to land in the porcelain sink. The other hand emptied out the Tupperware again and he was dropped inside yet again. Only a few streaks of soapy bubbles dribbled down the inside and outside of the container. Dean shied away from it anyway, even if it was harmless now.

Left alone, shivering and cold in the corner of the Tupperware as the giant store owner went to retrieve a roll of paper towels. The harsh and stiff paper towel square was shoved down far enough to reach the bottom and covered him up. Fingers groped around, feeling him through it and tucked the white coarse material around his form before leaving him there. Dean pushed against it weakly from his face, but also welcomed the solid texture of it. After that ordeal with the soapy water, having something to touch and grab was nice.

The first paper towel was ripped from his grip and removed to be replaced by a tissue next and Dean pulled it around himself when the titan wasn't looking. This material was softer than the first and he was still soaking wet and cold. Quickly drying himself off so that the giant didn't feel like he had to. Dean just wanted this day to be over.

The container was brought back to the main showroom again and two fingers pinched around his chest and pulled him up and out of the container, turning him over and inspecting him. A huge thumb on the other hand rubbed at the bottoms of his shoes and came away with a slight smear of blue ink. Right. Not-Arg had written something on his feet and back and apparently that was gone too. No marks to show who'd owned him before this guy.

The store owner cupped a hand underneath him and made him sit down with his legs curled. What energy Dean had was gone, so he was pretty pliable at the moment. His hands resting in his lap as he slumped in the wide palm. Squinting his eyes shut when he saw the shadow of a nearby finger come into view. A giant thumb bent around to stroke his head like one would for a mouse as Dean was carried to a wall of tanks. The digit was surprisingly gentle for how huge it was. The small hunter was expecting more pain but he guessed the store owner thought he needed a soft touch after all that. Dean would never admit out loud that he was grateful for the brief care. His nerves were shot and his mind kept going through worst case scenarios without a moment's rest. Dean sighed heavily and slumped forward, allowing the thumb to stroke his back next. To exhausted to do much else.

Dean remembered back to a time before the apocalypse. When he would fight tooth and nail any beast that dared to even look at him sideways. He longed for the days when he had half a chance at fighting the odds. No hunter training in the world could help him out now, so he sat there, slumped over and tired on a wide palm of the monster. Outmatched in every sense of the word.  
He tried many times to return to his soul form, to think of anything he could do to get away and kept coming up with even worse consequences for every action. Hating that he had to go the path of least resistance in order to make it out in one piece.

He finally looked up again when the huge body stopped at the far wall of fish tanks. There were several tanks that were about a fourth the size of the one he had at the auction house, and he saw the other beefy hand raise up the lid of the last one of the row. His would be the last one blocked by the secret wall that hid all of these tanks.

The one Trent was opening had a nest of shredded paper in the back left corner with a rag underneath for padding. A water bottle on the right side with the spout sticking through a hole in the wall for water and a bottle cap underneath. A food dish that could be pulled from the front with the words, 'DO NOT FEED' printed just above it. The food dish was a clear plastic box with an open top that was about a foot and a half tall, just under 3 feet wide and another 3 feet long at his scale. The whole tank was an 8 foot cube to him. Not giving him a whole hell of a lot of room to move around. It felt like a jail cell. For normal people, he guessed it was initially meant for a beta fish or perhaps a tarantula. He shivered at the implications.

Dean was lowered down all the way this time instead of dropped. Trent making reassuring sounds at him the whole time. Dean shuffled to the far corner, unwilling to be near any hand any longer. The giant chuckled softly and reached into his front pocket behind the store logo. A couple of tiny jingling toys were dropped down for him to play with, and the lid lowered and latched shut. The lock snapping into place vibrated the space he was in with a kind of finality that reminded him of hammering the last nail in a coffin. Something he'd done dozens of times himself while on a hunting job, and something he'd imagined before, but never felt quite like this for himself.

Dean looked up at the lid and saw a similar sigil etched into the plastic from the auction house. The containment sigil. Every tank on the row had the same sigil on their lids too. The guy left for a moment and brought back a five gallon white bucket and a scoop. The purpose of which puzzled Dean for a moment until it lifted into better view from his huddled position in the corner, and he watched the scoop shake off the overflow of food. Trent was measuring out an equal mixture of berries and nuts. He kept glancing at Dean and either picked out a large berry or added a different kind of nut for variety. His food dish was pulled out most of the way, the berries and nuts noisily dropped in and some bounced on impact before the dish slid back into place. The food rolling forwards then back inside the clear food box.

Dean stayed still through the whole thing, curled up in the corner as he was. Watching how things worked here to help form yet another escape plan. That hope never fully leaving him, even as despair gnawed at his mind. There was no one coming to save him.

The giant tapped a finger on the glass and pointed at Dean then the food a few times before leaving him be. Dean waited a minute for the guy's steps to disappear entirely before he gathered up a bit of strength to run at the food dish. An idea forming in his head to push it out on the other side. However, the food dish was as heavy as a mother fucker. Dean couldn't even budge it a millimeter. He panted and shoved, feet slipping on the glass floor, gaining no traction at all. He felt his soul burn inside himself at the indignities of it all. Clouding his vision with anger and self loathing.

He slumped down and turned to his side, heaving breaths in and out, glaring at the tray. It shouldn't be that heavy. At most, it should be like, a hundred pounds to him. He reached in and emptied out all of the berries and nuts, lightening the load by a good twenty pounds. Taking a bite out of a blueberry for the boost of energy. It tasted pretty good, so he went ahead and finished it.

Dean washed his hands out with the water dispenser that was originally intended for gerbils and tried again at shoving the food dish out of his cage. Even halfway would help. All he'd have to do was climb into the tray and back out again on the other side. The thing was huge for something as small as him, so it shouldn't be this big of a problem. But the tray still refused to budge.

All through his struggles, he felt eyes on him and finally took another much needed break. Glancing over more fully to his next door neighbor and seeing a damned mouse on the other side. It was bunched into itself, whiskers twitching in interest. It was about the same size as him if he curled up that small. He straightened his shoulders and stood up. He walked to the wall separating them and punched it. Startling the mouse into cowering inside an empty toilet paper tube. It's three fluffy tails were too long to enter along with the rest of it and moved independently of each other.

Dean growled in frustration at being seen like a small pet to the giants, and went back to shoving fruitlessly at the tray until the store closed and all the lights were turned off. The various neon lights were just enough illumination to see by for the other animals to keep from getting too scared of the dark looming shadows.

Darkness descended over the store and he finally gave up for the night. He sat on the edge of the tray, watching the other animals settle down for the night, curling up into their nests and he scowled at the lot of them. He had nothing against them personally, but he was not supposed to be one of them.

He's a human. He's a hunter. A _Winchester._

And now? He's in a tank. Reduced to sleeping on a pile of shredded paper as a bed. Dean closed his eyes, shutting out the world and hung his head between his knees. Hope was a hell of a thing, and it wouldn't let him fully rest that night. As much as he wished it would shut up for just a few hours so he can forget about everything.

But it wouldn't. And it didn't. And Dean hoped and prayed that Cas was still alive, somehow. That he can escape from here, that Sam was ok, that someone was looking for his little brother and finally, a little hope for himself. A hope that someone is able to find him before he's sold as some monster's dumb pet.

Most of all, he hoped that something would go _right_ for once.

 

 

“Hey hey hey! Guys!! So get this!” Sam shouted excitedly. After weeks of searching for anything supernatural relating even vaguely to angels, he hit pay dirt. His work area had been made up on Jody's desk in the office at her house, since she didn't have a fourth bedroom for their guest. “You're gonna wanna see this!” He shouted louder and bounced foot to foot in front of his old huge laptop before him.

Alex perked up from her nap on her homework. Just over a week ago, she had come home after school to find that Jody and Claire were back from Kansas, and had brought with them an old friend. It took a hot minute to update her in person on what all happened and what they're going to do now. She had been studying hard at school, and in her free time, working even harder to earn an internship at the local hospital as an assistant RN. She knew about the supernatural world, but nearly all of it was relating to her former life among vampires, so the soul turned Sam was a bit out of her comfort zone. She helped where she could, but they insisted that they got this. She was saving lives in a more conventional way at the hospital and that was just as important as finding the lost Winchesters. Dean would want her to keep saving people instead of trying to find him. Sam knew that as an inalienable fact. His older brother always wanted a normal life for the kids they run into. No matter how old they are or how capable they were in the hunter's life. Dean did not want their own childhood experiences for any other kid.

So it took a bit of convincing for Sam and Jody to keep Claire and Alex _in_ school.

Sam knew that finding Cas and his brother was on everyone's minds, but there's only so much they can do at the moment. Sam doesn't need to sleep nearly as much, and so long as he has internet access, he knows that he can find Dean and Cas on his own. He only went with Jody and Claire back to Souix Falls because in the end, it made sense. He was 4 inches tall, and he can't do every little thing on his own anymore. It was just the way it was, and he was starting to make peace with the idea. The world still felt far too large, but, it was getting easier to navigate it. Gaining better control at when he switches forms, and honing his skills.

It appeared that his long days and weeks of searching was finally going to pay off. The hunting world wasn't really rife with supernatural activity lately that was abnormal for this time of year and month, so he looked for the outliers. Big strange events in America. Customs would search cars and planes leaving the country and the angel and shrunken human wouldn't be hidden from the world for long. Whoever took them, most likely had to keep them in the USA which narrowed down the search significantly.

Sam also had faith in his family. They always make it out of impossible situations and he knew on an instinctual level that they'll find a way to make themselves known. Sam has to watch for the clues to surface and be ready to move. Since someone obviously captured Cas and Dean, shit was inevitably going to go down.

And it did. _Big time._

Sam was beaming up at the giant footsteps that he recognized as Jody's and the other set that were Alex's. Claire wasn't home at the moment, which was a pity because she worried about them as much as the others. He had to control his current emotions, otherwise he'd burst into a cloud of soul again from sheer glee. It already took him a few minutes after the initial report he read to come back into his corporeal form again to call out for their attention. He would have done a fly-by but they're not as adept at telling his thoughts and intentions when he's a mass of flickering soul light. Convincing them to follow him into the office would have taken a bit of time, and Sam didn't want to waste one second.

The ladies arrived at the same time in the office and Sam had to contain his happiness as he spoke quickly, gesturing to the several open web pages on the laptop's screen, “A massive explosion destroyed a building close to Freedersville in southern Colorado, and there was a mass exodus of monsters from the area. I heard reports from Curt that hunters from the next town closest were calling in _everyone_ as backup. Most of the fleeing monsters were easy pickings since they were blind and deaf, but they still posed a threat to humans. They were able to catch and kill nearly a hundred monsters! The building itself was completely totaled, not even a scrap left. It all screams angel smiting to me, don't you think?”

Sam took a breath to compose his feelings again. That itch to turn soul becoming stronger once again. Sam strode back to the touch pad on the laptop and waited for the screen to stop jumping long enough to find the button to minimize a window to show the one behind it, pushing himself back far enough from the laptop to keep his natural energies from fuzzing up the screen again. The mouse was large and cumbersome so once he got to a long article or page, he only used the mouse for it's wheel to scroll down the page as he read. It had been quite a workout these weeks to search using the laptop. But, he'd do it for the rest of his days, if it meant he'd find his family.

“I had Curt double check the reports and he said it's legit. Something big went down just outside of the small town that caused a bunch of monsters to flee the area in a 360 pattern.” Sam pushed the mouse and made it click on another window. “Here's where they were running from.” Pointing at a map on the screen with his full arm outstretched for the giants to see where he was indicating easier. “It's not even that far away!” He looked hopefully up at Jody and Alex.

“What are we waiting for?” Jody asked and hit a few buttons to print out the map and the reports Sam had found and gathered. “Alex, call Claire, she's gonna want in on this.”

The teen nodded and pulled out her phone as she went to her own room to gather up her gear.

Sam was about to protest that all he needed was Jody but from the way Alex was looking, the young lady would not be talked out of it. Though Alex didn't want to be a hunter, she would not leave a friend in need. Sam and Dean saved her life too, and she was happy to repay the favor.

They were packed and ready to go within ten minutes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that picture that I've been working towards should be either in the next chapter or the one right after. I have heard your pleas for fluff and there will be fluff! By Chuck almighty I need to get some fluff in this bitch!
> 
> Oh! And third hand smoke is a real thing that kills kids. I just felt like doing a kind of psa in the fic, sorry if it's out of left field. I just don't want anymore kids to die needlessly!  
> stole a bit of text from here - http://www.foxnews.com/health/2014/03/17/thirdhand-smoke-poses-cancer-risk.html


	31. Soft Lighting and Gentle Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a fwend

Chapter Thirty One:

Soft Lighting and Gentle Words

 

 

It was still dark outside when the back door opened to the pet store. Dean roused himself from the tired daze that he'd been in, wishing he could fully sleep. A different person had entered and was doing something behind the walls in the back room. Lights went on but dimmed after a slight pained hiss of someone that was not expecting such brightness.

Dean stayed where he was, even hunching down a little further into the pile of shredded paper and rags that made up his 'bed' in the tiny aquarium. He watched as the silhouetted figure started to set up the shop just the way they liked it. Another shop keeper and not a burglar. It only eased his mind a little as they moved around, tutting to themselves at how Trent arranges things the 'wrong' way.

They turned on a few dim lights in the store, giving it a softer glow before turning to the front door and flipping on the sign again, but keeping the blinds closed. Dean figured out why when a few people came in and greeted the other shop keeper like they were friends before going to browse around with a hand basket. The eyes of the customer glinted abnormally in the lighting. The store served nocturnal monsters as well.

The shop keeper was partially illuminated by one of the dim lights and Dean got a fairly good look at them. It appeared to be a young college age boy, and they'd just noticed a note left on the counter. Lifting it and reading it under one of the soft lights and frowning in Dean's direction.

“Oh this is gonna be awesome.” He muttered to himself and folded his arms as he remained in the nest of paper and cloth scraps.

Sure enough, the kid came over, scanning the tanks before landing on his with a raised brow. The giant had to bend over slightly and Dean got a good look of the fanged face that smiled in confusion at him. Not a vampire, maybe a Were-pire? What the hell did Cas call them... Nachzehrer? Or something German sounding like that. Were-pire fits better in Dean's humble opinion.

The Were-pire taps at his tank a few times, shifting their body to better face him head on. Brows furrowing as they stare in at Dean. Taking in all of his meager four inches.

“Where did Trent find you, little fella?” The wiry monster mused aloud. They stared at each other for a few more moments before the kid searched the note for more information. “I don't know how much he's asking for you.” The kid talked to himself, clearly used to doing so since the night shift wasn't looking to be too busy. Dean felt a tingle run up his spine every time a giant turned their attention to stare at him and this was no exception. The Were-pire frowned deeply at him again and sighed. “Trent always gets mad when I call him while he's sleeping. So I guess it's up to me to figure out how much. I don't want to sell it for less than it's worth though...” The frown never quite leaving the young fanged face.

Light brown hair falling half into his deep brown eyes before the head jerked to the left to get it out of his line of sight. A familiar move he'd seen on Sammy's face before the bangs grew long enough to be pushed behind his ears. God, how he missed his little brother. Glad that at least he's not here with him.

The kid stood upright again and shouted towards the solitary customer in the store. “Hey! Mr. Gredridtch! Come here!”

Dean flinched at the volume, grateful for the glass wall that muffled it somewhat. A voice bellowed out from the other side of the store, “Ya got something new?”

“Yeah. Come take a look at this.”

Dean shifted in his seat, trying not to say anything and make matters worse for himself. He was still sore as all hell, and a restless night didn't help at all. But, apparently, he was the cool new toy that everyone wanted to see and play with.

The other giant was much larger, like a former football player and came over with a hand basket full of chew toys and treats that was set on the floor to free up his hands. “What have you got here?”

“Trent bought it yesterday. He said in a note that some lady brought it in, asking for him to prepare it to be eaten but he refused. Said he bought it to save it's life. The lady claimed it was a famous hunter, but, I don't recognize it, and it doesn't look all that dangerous to me. Whatever it is. Maybe it just _looks like_ a famous hunter?” The kid shrugged a thin shoulder and handed the note off to the customer who hummed in thought.

“I'll give you fifty bucks for it.” The larger man nodded as if that was a fair price.

Dean's eyes went a little wider. The customer was buying chew toys that were bigger than his whole body. Clearly he had something huge waiting at home that was spoiled rotten. His heart started beating faster, attention darting to the kid for mercy.

The college kid thankfully shook his head, hair flopping around before being shoved back by splayed fingers over his forehead.

The speed of which the large man offered to buy hinted that the store had something valuable here. “Till I know for sure what it is, and what it's worth, I don't think I can sell it. But, if Trent gives me a price we can definitely work something out.”

“Did he say how much he spent for the thing?” The customer's eyes roamed all over the tank, fingers raised and tapping loudly on the glass to get him to move. “Can't be that much if it's being sold next to the Triflarian mice.”

“Hmmm.... good point.” The kid nodded along thoughtfully. “Putting it next to the feeder mice isn't exactly a prime location.”

Dean muttered, “Fuck.” Too quiet for them to hear as he sunk lower into the nest, discreetly burying himself in the materials as if he could hide from their greedy stare. Heart sinking.

“Does it bite?” The hefty man asked, sounding hopeful.

“I don't know anything about it.” The kid admitted, and reached for a set of work gloves from his back pocket. “Let's find out.” He stood up and leaned over to double check the store, making sure that no one came in unnoticed while he was here along the back wall. “Would biting be a deal breaker for you?” The kid asked as he fit the gloves snug over his fingers and reached for the lock overhead.

“No, half of my babies are biters.” He lightly kicked the hand basket with a chuckle. “I think I'd _prefer_ if it had a bite to it.”

The kid grinned to be polite and flipped the lock up from the lid. A large gloved hand reached down and Dean made an aborted dash for the other side of the tank, getting snagged in the fist upside down as it turned and twisted him in the rough unyielding grip. Fingers locking into place around each leg and arm, he felt splayed out with his belly exposed but chest compressed.

Dean grunted in pain as he was pinned down and hoisted into the air. The hand pulled him closer towards the kid and opened a little as the other hand came forward and effortlessly pushed and pulled at his arms and legs to get him to be in a better position. His quiet gasps of pain went ignored for the most part as he fought against the treatment. They probably didn't even hear him.

“It looks like a doll someone dressed up to look more like a person.” The kid chuckled. “Clothes wont come off, so I don't know what to make of that.” He mused, tugging at the jacket. Dean cried out at the harsh pull and it stopped abruptly. “Oh wow, it must... Must be some form of skin for it. A camouflage it created to resemble human clothes. You'd think it would know that humans aren't so small and it would have been better off disguising itself as something smaller. Like a mouse. A different breed of shapeshifter? Poor disguise.” The kid grazed his finger down the jacket but was unable to get a better feel of the texture with how small it was.

“Clearly a bit touched in the head.” The hefty customer mused. “Not worth the full fifty bucks. I'll give you thirty. Cash.”

“No. Sorry, Mr. Gredridtch. But I just can't sell it tonight.” The kid pulled Dean closer to his chest in a protective way. “Trent would stick a coin in my mouth if I sold one more creature off the books.” He raised Dean to his face and opened up his fist a little to view the small man easier, petting the short spiky hair with a careful finger to keep it calm and from scaring it further. A slight grin coming to his face at seeing how docile the little thing was. Usually he'd be pulling fangs or claws out of the gloves by now, hoping that the new pair he got was thick enough this time to avoid band aids. His hands were littered with puncture wounds from the merchandise. He finally looked back to the customer and shook his head with regret. “Come back tomorrow during the day if you can. Trent should have a price by then. And if he's still here at night when my next shift starts, I'll save him for you.”

Mr. Gredridtch grumbled and gave a half heated glare at the kid and Dean was starting to get more than a little fearful that he was going to be snatched up by the larger giant, regardless what the kid said.

Dean immediately reached out with both hands to hold onto the finger that had been petting him and the kid's eyes darted down to widen at the movement. A soft, 'aww' escaping the lips which contrasted drastically with the shark fangs just behind them. Dean didn't even realize he was desperately grasping the hand for help until a different finger came in to gently stroke over his hands and forearms. Covered completely by just the end of the new finger. He blinked out of his brief panic and jerked his hands back and whipped his head around to the sound of angry grumbling. His heart beating hard and fast. His fate nearly sealed.

The customer kicked the basket aside to get into the kid's face. “This is some kind of ploy to get me to pay more?!”

“What are you talking about?” Dean was cupped closer to the wide chest of the Were-pire and he could hear the huge heart start to pick up behind the white work shirt. Even though the larger monster was sounding threatening, this wiry kid was still trying to protect him with his hands. Dean felt the body step back before going tense all around him. The kid obviously knowing that he was already outmatched if it came to blows over this little thing and yet he still held him close.

Mr. Gredridtch was baring larger fangs now. “You greedy brat! Telling me I gotta wait to buy something that's clearly for sale in this store?! Telling me I gotta wake up during _daylight_ hours?” He spat out.

The kid was startled by the angered display he's watching and his deep brown eyes turned cold and Dean could practically feel the young man grow in front of him. Puffing up in anger of his own at the hostile sounding customer. “Yes.” The serrated shark-like fangs were bared and shining in the dim light of the store and Dean cowered down in the gloved hand. He wasn't sure which one would win in a fight but he was rooting for the kid on this one. He knew from experience that Were-pires were tough sons-of-bitches.

A moment passed with the customer huffing and puffing indignantly before finally bending over to yank the half full basket of chew toys back up again. He shook the basket in front of the kid, a few things falling out through the holes at the jostling. “Are you selling _these_? Or do I have to _wait_ to buy them too?”

The store keeper practically had a growl in his throat as he responded, “Now would be fine.” in a way that clearly sounded like, 'Fuck you.' to anyone with ears. The kid motioned with his chin for the larger man to go to the counter first so that he wouldn't be showing his back to the threat. The customer cursed under his breath before marching towards the counter and causing the floor to creak and groan in protest. Dean felt the slight sag in the shoulders of his savior. The kid regarded him thoughtfully. Trying to decide what he wanted to do with Dean. Take him with, or leave him here.

A loud ringing bell sounded out as the asshole customer was banging on it hard enough to break it, on the counter to get attention.

“Fucker.” The kid muttered and took the few steps back to the tank. Lifting up the lid with one hand and made sure the lock was still there and not tampered with. He had no idea that the usually bubbly customer would turn so awful when he was denied something. He pet the small shivering thing in his hand one more time before gently lowering it back to its bed. Talking quietly once more in front of the tank, as if the small human looking critter could actually understand him. “Don't worry, I'll tell Trent not to sell you to him. Showed his true colors today. I'll make sure you go to a _good_ home.” He winked at the small scared thing before locking up the tank and walking back to the cash register before Mr. Asshole Gredridtch decided to steal something.

Dean sat where he was placed for a moment. Wondering if he just saw what he just saw. The guy that was selling pets in a store refused an easy sale. Even going so far as to stand up to something over twice his size... for _his_ sake. He can't have just witnessed that. Monsters don't tend to go above and beyond for something they see as small and stupid. But... it happened. Dean was dumbfounded.

A loud bang of the front door sounded out, letting him relax a fraction in the new peaceful quiet that came over the store. The kid was heard somewhere beyond the shelves, arranging stuff and muttering angrily to himself. Eventually he started up some soft music over the speakers and Dean realized that it had been ages since he heard music. Any kind of music. Not since before the kidnapping weeks ago.

After the tension passed, the store keeper was seen sweeping the floors, half dancing to the music as he cleaned. A few people came, bought some pet food and left without coming over to his side of the store. Dean was nearly asleep when he heard the rumbling steps come closer and jolted wide awake. The top lock was flipping back and the lid to his tank lifted up.

“I'm bored. Keep me company?” The kid said and reached in without a glove to carefully wrap around Dean and lift him up and out. Dean was carried in the cupped hands towards the counter and the kid sat down in a short, well worn chair that made the rest of the store practically disappear from view. The giant reclined, kicked his feet up on a tall box and sighed heavily. “So booorrred.”

Dean was held in the hands for a moment, fingers as long as he was tall bouncing one of Dean's legs up and down a few millimeters with a slight grin on the large face. The dark brown eyes taking him in before they started petting his head again. Confident that the little guy was tame and up for some light teasing. Dean found himself softly dropped to the wide chest that was nearly horizontal from the giant's slouched position and he had to adjust his legs a few times so he could face the large face, and not roll backwards down the slope the chest made.

The young Were-pire was amused at the wiggling form, how it acted just like people, and had to keep himself from laughing and shaking the creature along with his chest. After it was obvious that it was taking up all of the little guy's attention to just keep from falling to the floor, the kid took in his minuscule company's unique plight and untucked his work shirt enough to create a ledge out of the fabric for him to sit on.

Dean rose and fell with the massive breaths the giant was taking and felt the softer tremors of the heart beating away to his immediate right.

“There we go.” The voice rumbled underneath Dean in a sing-song way. A pleased grin on his face. “My name's Lade. What's yours?”

It was so conversational and Dean felt more at ease with this guy than the others, he almost forgot himself and replied to the common innocuous question. The kid pet his head again, and even though it felt very demeaning, it didn't hurt at all. Everything the kid, _Lade_ , did, was with care. Like he gave a shit about the living things they sold here. Dean relaxed a little into the folded fabric the shirt made and listened to Lade talk about his life. It was obvious that he was kinda lonely. And it must be due to working alone during night shifts at a pet store. Dean learned that during the day, he was a college student and courting someone that made the sun shine and birds sing to Lade and Dean wanted to impart a few gems of wisdom on the kid. Remembering that he hasn't exactly had much luck with lasting relationships. He kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the calm company and one sided conversation.

Through it all, he stayed quiet, trying not to show that he understood what Lade was saying, but also trying to seem like he got it. That he was there for the kid. Lade's known public life was tough by human standards, but even harder because of having to hide his monster side. Lade admitted to hating how his body's requirements kept him from having a full normal human life, and that he had to hide it from his girlfriend. Debating at length if he should tell her everything or not. He was currently trying to ease her into the idea of the supernatural, but didn't know if she'd be able to accept him as he is.

Dean hadn't a clue what to say to that. Lade kept on talking softly, content to have a small audience. He had a good taste in movies, music could use some tweaking, but at least it wasn't Sam's hippy dippy kind of music. Dean was liking the kid even more, while still sad at the fact that the guy was constantly at war with himself. What he is versus who he is. Dean can kinda relate to that now.

“Do, my dad's all, 'You need to grow up, Blade.' And he doesn't get it, ya know? AND! He keeps calling me by my dead name. Not even accepting my _real_ name.” A slight growl behind the scary serrated teeth that peeked out. Dean knew it wasn't aimed at him. Which helped a little... but seeing giant shark teeth and feeling a growl reverberating around him. It wasn't easy. But, he knew that this giant wasn't going to hurt him, and Lade needed someone to listen that wasn't going to judge.

“I am a _grown man_! I have my own place now, a job, my classes are great, and I just, I just wish he was... wish he was proud of me. For what I've done _outside_ of the colony.” Lade's voice went a little hoarse, almost too hurt and quiet for Dean to hear towards the end of that outburst. The giant fingers of the other hand were twitching somewhere behind Dean on Lade's belly. Thumb thumping out a random pattern. The hand Dean was leaning back on, that was propping him up, was reliable and steady as ever.

Lade turned his head to the side. Breathing for awhile to calm himself down. Occasionally reiterating quietly what he knew to be true. Reassuring himself. Blinking slower and slower as the clock ticked on.

Dean felt the hand that had been cupped behind him, keeping him from sliding backwards off of the chest was falling lax. The giant's attention fading out. He felt the wide chest lift and fall in a silent sigh like a half yawn, and the eyelids droop down low, and finally stay down.

Was he falling asleep? Dean perked up a little, trying not to move too much on the chest to alert Lade into waking fully again. From hearing all this kid does in a day... sounds like he doesn't get much sleep at all. Must be exhausted. Dean can relate to that too.

But, can he really look past an opportunity like this? Dean slowly shifted his knees to be underneath himself again. Realizing that he'd been just as laid back and relaxed as Lade was. Just as he was about to stand up, a thought crossed his mind. What would escaping now accomplish?

In just the last week, several monsters had held him captive. None of which treated him with any kind of respect of this level. Even if Lade saw him as a pet to be sold, he still fuckin' _cared_ about him. Dean was finding that in short supply lately. He had some respect from Ed and Jack and that spider fairy, but that was probably because they were all in the same situation. Would those talking cats resort back to their instincts when there was no need for his help in lock picking? Or would that spider fairy give a rat's ass about him now that it's free? Would any of those other auction victims come to his rescue if they knew where he was?

Dean peered up at the lax face on Lade and sat back down to contemplate what it would really mean to try and get away now. From a logistical standpoint, he's currently three feet above ground, and that's pretty damned high up to someone only 4 inches tall with no real climbing experience. He might be able to turn soul again once he figures out how to get out of the store, but then what? Can he just fly his soul cloud ass back to the bunker on his own? Walking there is out of the question. He still doesn't know where he is or where the bunker is from here. He'd have to find a map, then hitchhike on some animal or two... _dozen_... to get back again. And that's assuming he wont be captured again on the way. With his luck, he wont make it ten feet out the door.

But if he got back to the bunker, he'd be even further away from Cas if he somehow managed to survive back there... Dean shook his head. He knew Cas was dead. No angel could hold basically 8 skyscraper sized angels in one broken vessel. If he's not dead, he's hopelessly insane and hanging out in another dimension where they'd never be able to reach him. 'Cause Dean did not see or hear from the angel after he disappeared. Cas would have returned for him if he could. But he _didn't_. And Dean was stolen by that bitch and sold, and he wont ever get out of this endless loop of cage and aquarium and Sam wont ever know what happened to him and he has no fucking idea if Sam is even _ok_ , or _alive_ , and staying out of trouble. If Sam foolishly tried to find him and got captured just like he and Cas did and is being held captive somewhere else entirely and being tortured or eaten or fucking both and _fuck!_ Why is everything so _shitty_? Can't the universe give them a break? Why can't he have a happy ending with his friends and family and why does his best friend gotta _die like that_ and why can't he save anyone anymore and why -

“Hey, hey now. It's ok.” A loud soothing voice rumbled around him, startling him into scrambling backwards and right into the cupped hand behind him. It curled around his shoulders, pinning him down from jumping up and bolting away on instinct.

“It's ok, little buddy. Shhh shhh.” A few fingers on the other hand came in slowly and stroked his arm in feather light touches. “It's scary being out here, isn't it? I'm sorry. I should have known you were a burrowing animal.” Lade chastised himself. “Here I am, keeping you all exposed like this while I bitch and moan about my colony.” Lade frowned before forcing a smile. “It's ok, little buddy. You're safe.”

Dean stayed still as the giant stroked his arms and shoulders, pet his head and he found himself actually a little bit mollified by the kind gesture. Knowing that Lade didn't mean anything bad by it. Just trying to give a little bit of comfort to a scared soul.

“Tell you what.” Lade said and curled his hand more fully behind the panting thing's back to be able to sit upright again in the worn chair. Poor thing didn't even try to fight the move. Letting the hand hold him and it was clearly feeling comfortable in the loose grip.

“If Trent says it's ok, and no one buys you in the next couple of days, I'll adopt you.” He grinned at the sad creature in his hand. Dwarfed by everything and helpless on its own. “I'll have to take a large chunk from my paycheck, but, you look like you could use a break, little buddy.”

Dean honestly couldn't find it in him to disagree with any of that. Not really. If it meant getting out of here, and having a roommate as kind as this kid, he can't say that it wouldn't be the best of a bad situation. And, when he's fully healed and rested, he can figure out a way to go home. It'd suck to leave the kid like that, though. But. What options does he have? He wants to _go home_. To take care of his little brother. To make sure his extended family is ok, and knows that he's still kicking. It must be hell for them to not know what happened. Dean felt his heart break again at the knowledge that if... no, _when_ he does get back, he's gonna have to tell everyone what happened to Cas. That he's responsible for... for killing. For getting Cas killed. It was his fault. On his watch. Cas died... he died...

Dean felt the huge fingers come in again and console him. Leaning into the large thumb and accepting the comfort. Fuck. It's been so long since he let his emotions go like this. Usually able to bottle it up till he has a private minute alone to let it all out.

Dean blinked into the middle distance. He must really feel at ease with this Lade guy if he's letting the giant monster see Dean break down like this. And Lade is a truly good dude for going with the flow and giving the care that he needs right now. Would just anyone do that? Lade doesn't even know who Dean really is. How many atrocities he's committed against the world.

Lade stayed in the chair for as long as it took for his buddy to settle down again. For the upset hitches to leave the tiny body. At first, he thought it was from being exposed out in the open, so he'd made a little cave out of his hand but the little guy didn't hide in it like most burrowing creatures did. What was troubling the small thing wasn't the wide open, it was something else and Lade had no idea how to fix it. But, sitting here seems to actually be helping since the little guy was snuggling up to his fingers. Tiny rapid heartbeat slowing down and the breaths calmed their hitching. The creature going near boneless in his hands.

The trust involved warmed Lade's heart and he wasn't sure he could last the few days as promised before he takes this little thing home. His girlfriend made him promise not to bring his work home with him, but, it's not like this small creature is as big as a dog or cat. The tank he'll have to get shouldn't be too hard to take care of and clean. If it means that this thing has a loving home, he'll make the verbal bombshell for his girlfriend. What if this was Fate giving him an excuse to let her in on the big secret? A tiny creature like this that doesn't look dangerous at all. Something that looks like a doll she can cuddle. Girls like dolls right? And this guy needs a home... and it's easily the least threatening looking thing out there for normal humans to see that not everything supernatural is evil. It's perfect.

If nothing else, he'll keep the little pet in their storage room without her needing to know, until he can find a home for it on his own. Not just sell it to the first person with enough cash on hand.

Already Lade was coming up with plausible scenarios to approach Trent with. Claiming it got out and he couldn't find it so he doesn't have to sell it, buying it through several payments from his paycheck, working extra hours, or having someone else loan him the money for it and pay them back instead. In any case, Lade was starting to fall in love with this sad bitty thing and wanted to give it a better life.

For now, though, he had to get back to work, going by the sounds of the front door opening.

“Be with you in a minute!” He called from his chair and winced at the little guys newly covered ears. Ok, loud noises hurt its ears. Lade would start making a list of things to remember about it before taking it home. It wouldn't do to find out too late that the thing was allergic to something at his home, or if it is already sick and destined to die in a few days anyway. He cupped his hand around the thing and stood up to see where the new customers went. They were checking out the fish aquariums so he thought it would be safe to return the small creature back to the tank for now. He can't exactly carry it around all night and into the next day when Trent comes back in.

Lade set the thing back into it's tank. He was surprised to see that it didn't immediately go to the bed or food. Instead, it walked to the front of the tank and raised the cutest little hand he ever saw, up to the glass separating them.

Lade chuckled and raised his own fingertip to the outside of the glass to match the tiny hand. “See you later, Buddy.”

Dean watched the kid stand up straight again, head practically disappearing behind the shelf overhead before Lade walked away. Dean stayed there, hand raised, wondering what the hell he was doing. A small voice in the back of his mind criticized him for being so weak. For putting all his hopes in another that only sees a dumb pet. But a growing internal voice said, 'why the hell not?'

He didn't know what to do with that.

The night was waning, and business started to pick up. More people came by and each time he hid inside the nest if he had a chance to do so. People were damned fast though, so a few caught sight of him and were likewise turned away from handling him by Lade who did not want a repeat of earlier. Dean was liking the guy even more.

Lade came back over just before his shift was ending and saw that Dean ate all the berries and left most of the nuts so when it came to feeding time, he gave Dean all berries and no peanuts. The real reason was that Dean couldn't bite into the peanuts that were as big as his head. There was just no way. He eventually succeeded in breaking one in half but it was like trying to gnaw on a brick for how hard it was on his teeth. He would have used his knife or even his gun to break it up into more manageable pieces but his manifesting ability was still null and void. The same as his ability to turn soul. Just not happening.

Lade was cleaning up the store again, as customers and families browsed the shelves. Dean had to forgive Lade for not paying attention to him. He was one guy running the store by himself and couldn't very well watch Dean's tank and do his job at the same time. But still, it was unnerving to have so many faces press close to his tank from the two exposed sides and bang on the glass to get him to move.

Several more offers were made and rejected and nearly all promised to return the next night. The sun kept the nocturnal monsters from coming during full daylight hours and no sales were made over the phone. They were a pet shop, not delivery. Trent had to make that very clear on occasion, and that's why he hired Lade in the first place. To cater to the night crowd.

Through it all, Dean had to bite his tongue hard, to keep from cursing out every face that showed an interest in him. Some sneaky young kid peeled off a brightly colored sale sticker from one tank further down the shelf, and put it on his before going to tug at Lade's arm and showing him that he was on sale after all, and the young kid had cash so legally he had to sell to the youngster.

Lade rolled his eyes and escorted the 8 year old back to his calling parents.

Dean was a bit miffed that the orange 'SALE!' sticker remained. Like he wasn't good enough to go for full price. He paced back and forth in his tiny tank, kicking the bitty bell toys around for something to do. There wasn't anything to take his attention for long in the tank after he braided a few of the long shredded papers, then made a rope that sucked entirely at being a rope. He folded the rags to form a better bed, but unfolded it back to it's messy state when that would show his intelligence nearly as much as speaking.

The store's PA turned on for a moment that cut out the music, a recording announcing that it will be closing for a couple of hours as they switch to serving human customers, so anyone that wishes to buy the special products or animals has ten minutes to make their final purchases. Everyone inside hustled to grab the last minute items and rushed the counter like they do every night. Lade was busy ringing everyone up and wishing them well as they left.

Trent came in as the customers left and started closing up the supernatural shelves and whatnot for the human business hours that ran till 7pm. The store would be empty until just past midnight to reduce the risk of normal humans wandering inside. The lights were also dimmed far enough to suggest they were closed as well as to help with the nocturnal customer's eyes. Even the parking lot was designed in such a way to hide the cars from easy view of the street without hiding the store itself too much. A delicate balance.

Trent often spoke of having it all automated to react to a human's presence, hiding the special merchandise, but Lade knew it was a pipe dream. Best they had was their own senses and experiences to tell if someone was human or not.

Trent waited patiently for the last of their night customers to leave before pulling Lade aside. Trent walked them towards Dean's tank to double check that he was still inside. Dean felt dread crawl up his spine at the look Trent was giving him and Lade. They were in trouble.

“Tell me, what happened with Mr. Gredridtch. Spare no details, boy.”

Lade swallowed hard before gazing at the small creature. “He was a jackass, Sir.” Lade said as firm as he could. He elaborated some but it looked like his boss didn't need much more convincing.

Trent nodded and also peered in at his new acquisition. “The man called me four times last night. _Four. Times_.” he growled out and made a fist. “No one calls me, understand?”

Lade lifted up his hands placatingly. “Sir! I didn't tell him to -”

“I know you didn't.” A hand rested on Lade's shoulder. “I never have to tell you anything twice. You did good. I want his name and a photo pulled from the security cameras put into the banned list for living animals. He can buy all the dead mice his pets need, but he is not allowed another living thing. Understand?”

Lade's eyes lit up. “Yes, Sir!” He knew that the banned list was for life. Unbreakable by all but the highest levels of magic. Those kinds of spells are above their pay grade. Anyone's picture or name that went into the banned list was restricted from whatever it was that was written next to it. In that customer's case, it was from buying living animals, in most other cases, people and monsters were banned outright from the store and it's surrounding property. Even if someone else was to purchase the thing from the store, intending to give it to a banned person, the banned person simple would not be able to accept it. In the immediate presence of it, they would forget ever asking for the thing, and walk away. It was basically as harmless as spells go, and the list wasn't used very often for repeat business.

Trent trusted Lade's judgment enough to let him run the store overnight, when statistically the most robberies happen. Lade never let him down, and if he said someone was a jackass in his store, then they were. The jackass gets one last chance and if they continue to misbehave, they're banned outright unless the initial act was heinous enough to warrant it on the first offense. Sometimes, when Lade was very bored, he'd go through the local police reports looking for names of bad people and add them to the banned list, just so he doesn't have to worry about them coming in.

In the end, it meant a safe store for all the good shoppers and resident animals. Dean picked up on the general vibe from these two and he felt the icy dread in his chest to melt a little. Now that he could understand Trent, he knew that, given the alternatives, he really was lucky to be here. He still didn't like the tilt-a-whirlpool bath though. That fucking _sucked_.

Lade held onto Trent's arm when it looked like he was going to leave the tank area again. “Sir? This little thing... I've been wondering. What is it?”

Both regarded Dean critically and he felt himself shrink back at the combined stares. “Hell if I know for sure, but, the way the lady was talking, is that this is supposedly a Winchester.”

Lade inhaled sharply. Taking a step back. “ _What?_ ”

“Yeah. Though, I'm pretty sure a real Winchester would be a bit taller.” Trent laughed and tapped genially at the glass. “My guess was that it's a failed spell. Someone tried to make a full sized Winchester, for Eve knows why, but it backfired so they decided to sell it at the auction to make a bit of cash. Some people should stay away from magic if they can't handle it.” Trent held out his palm and suddenly there was a small ball of fire within the curled fingers. He shook his hand out and the flames flickered into the air as they went away. Lade knew he had a hobby of witchcraft, but it was all about white magics. It kept all the creatures calm, contained, and safe while under his roof. It wouldn't do to have one of his creatures destroying half the cages as it tries to eat the rest of his livestock.

Trent shifted his weight to the other foot, folding his beefy arms and peering down at Dean. “I looked up Winchesters and this one kinda resembles the older one. Dean. But. It doesn't talk, and it doesn't seem all that violent, so I'm sure it's a fake.”

Lade was biting his lower lip with a few fangs. Deep thoughts running through his head. Trent raised an eyebrow at him to spill. “It's just that. I took it out to socialize it and it seemed docile. Scared and I uh, I thought that I'd want to keep it as a pet. But that was before you said it's a Winchester.”

“It's not. Those hunters would kill you soon as look at you. Doesn't matter if you never hurt anybody. They are ruthless killing machines. They tried several times to end the world, and I highly doubt that if this were one of them, that they would allow themselves to be caught and handled like a common mouse.” Trent tapped the glass again. “That's why I don't even plan on labeling it as a Winchester lookalike. Gives people bad thoughts. It's not its fault it looks like a murderer.”

Dean swallowed thickly. Old emotions raging behind his eyes as he listened to the giants discuss his legacy as seen by things that weren't human. He's the thing that monsters fear. He can't even argue the viewpoint too much. Dean didn't want to blow his cover so he went to the large food dish and pulled out a raspberry to eat the individual bulbs like grapes. The taste and texture throwing him off, but he needed the distraction and diversion.

Trent went on, resting an elbow back on the shelf as his face rose out of Dean's view. “Did you want to adopt him? I'll only charge you a forth.”

Lade frowned at the small thing. “Nah. If Natasha sees him, she'll flip out. I've been trying to ease her into our world, slowly. Talking about it as if it's something I've been studying in classes. Seeing how she'll react. I did mention the Winchesters but I never knew what they looked like, only what they did. If I tell her, if I show her a tiny little man, She'll know it's all real and think he's evil and then there's fighting and things flying and... yeah. I better not. I still haven't told her about.. uh...” he gestured to himself and shrugged weakly. It was a repeated topic so Trent just nodded his head once. It was one thing to talk about the supernatural, quite another to reveal that they are one.

“Well, ok, if you change your mind, you got a couple hours before I open shop.”

Lade nodded a few times. Trent went back to reset up things how he likes it and to work out the numbers. Lade rest his arms on the shelf and put his chin on his folded hands, getting more to it's level. “I hope someone nice adopts you little buddy. It looks like you wont have to wait too long with how many people were interested last night. It's not your fault that you look like that. Don't let anyone treat you badly.” He grinned sadly. “Take care.” He stood up straight again and rubbed a thumb onto the glass as a farewell.

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest that felt too tight. A string of curses under his breath at loosing the budding friendship of someone _decent_. It was more than just him getting out of here that he would be missing.

He didn't care for any of the monsters that offered to buy him overnight. All of them were staring at him with too much greed in their eyes, like nearly every single monster that's laid eyes on him him so far.

“Wait!” He called out but it was too late. Within just a few strides, Lade was already out of view and hearing range. Dean was left punching the walls, but it was drowned out by the sounds of dogs and cats waking up not far away. Birds chirping and mice squeaking. “Fuck!” Dean shouted and hurled the raspberry against the wall. Pacing the small tank and cursing the world at large. Missing his one real chance of getting out of here and somewhere safe. He leaned against the the very edge of his tank, to watch the front door open, then close behind the kid.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lade's name came from a Glade air freshener egg that's sitting on my coffee table next to me. I suck at coming up with names! lol
> 
> Next chapters half written because this one was initially going to be long as fuck. It snowed like crazy yesterday so I'm beat after having to shovel the longest driveway of the 8 inches of white frozen bullshit.   
> (still love Iowa though... the weather is unpredictable as shit so it makes life interesting. they said it was only going to be 1-3 inches that morning, which turned to 6-8 inches a few hours later, and a foot in some spots in my yard. this wolfie is *tired*)
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me alive! wha'd'y'all think of Lade? want him to take you home?


	32. The Light at the End of the Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not sure how much he can take before giving up.
> 
> There is art for the end of this chapter!  
> https://wolfie180g.deviantart.com/art/The-Pet-Store-715893649
> 
> for those who haven't taken a look at it, only look once you've read the whole chapter ;) somewhat spoilery... ok, major spoilery if you haven't seen it yet and don't know the one I'm referring to. that picture I drew wasn't originally for soul survivors but at everyone's encouragement to find out the story behind it, I wrote the last dozen chapters or so to build up to it. You all are to blame for this angst! (and me, but that's how I do.)

Chapter thirty two:

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

 

 

Finally, after watching Lade walk out that door, Dean slumped down into the nest as exhaustion claimed him yet again. He was hoping the quiet moment would last this time around. The small hunter covered himself head to toe with the large, off white and coarse rag that he suspected was part of an old work shirt. The shredded paper that covered half of the floor around the rag clung to the frayed fabric strands as thick as cardboard to him. Dean tiredly shoved a few of the annoying paper bits out of his face and sighed heavily into the somewhat comfortable cloth nest. This was no replacement for his memory foam mattress back home, but it was better than Bobby's living room floor, that's for sure.

Each and every reminiscent thought that crossed his mind about his previous bedding situations had been forced back down along with the rest of his previous living life, so he didn't waste his time pining for the past. He was four inches tall and sometimes he didn't even have a physical body, because he was, after all... _dead_. Not quite gone for good, not yet anyway, but he wasn't technically _living_. So, therefore, mourning the loss of a totally comfy bed meant for proper _humans_ wasn't going to help him get the rest he so dearly needed.

Dean snickered to himself. 'Slept like the dead.' If _only_...

He hadn't gotten enough sleep last night with Lade there, keeping him awake to talk or just the amplified sounds that giants make moving around. Kept awake, not only when the Were-pire was holding him in his hands or propped up on his chest, it was more often the fact that Dean was in a cage at a pet shop with the guy in charge coming up to have one sided conversations all night long with him.

Dean was too worried about the new unpredictable giants around him even when Lade left him alone. Turns out that they were even more worried about one 'Dean Winchester' rumored to be around. Not even knowing that he is the real deal and listening to every word spoken overhead. Talking about Dean as if he was cold blooded and evil, and he supposed, that to monsters, he was. He and Sam had hunted for most of their lives, they certainly killed an insane number of monsters and there were probably dozens if not hundreds of innocent monsters among the dead. Dean knew that if he said literally anything along those lines, to anyone now, his life would be forfeit.

So, Dean tolerated the abuse, and continued to let them to treat him like a dumb animal that has an unfortunate resemblance to an infamous, apocalypse bringing, murderer. Perhaps this was karma incarnate. Now any monster at all would be able to take him out. Even the infant monsters he made orphans. How many of them were there out there? How many monsters had kids at home that never saw their parents again?

God, Dean wanted his mind to shut the hell up.

Trent's appearance was made known well in advance by the feel of the ground rumbling beneath his rag and paper formed bed. That tell tale thump thump rhythm that Dean was becoming all too familiar with of giant feet walking along the floor. So much power in every step. So much potential for devastation for beings as small as he is now, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that the normal sized people didn't even think about it. When he was alive and an impressive six foot one, he'd never considered walking around to be something that could be feared quite so much. Something to hear in equal parts awe and terror.

He knew that the arrival of the store owner wouldn't bode well for him, since it hardly ever did, so he tried to keep himself covered up. Out of sight out of mind. He'd chastise himself later for cowering like this, if he survived long enough to be proven wrong.

For all his worry, the store owner, Trent, wasn't even thinking about the small man in the cage at all. He was getting the place set up for his human customers and his gaze was solely on hiding all things supernatural from view, same as every shift before. Making sure that the previous customers didn't misplace any products where humans could see them when he opens the doors to the public again.

Trent pulled the thin secret wall out from it's storage space to block the special pets from view. Nearly all of them were nocturnal anyway and the few that made noises were always mistaken for other animals nearby. The wall resembled a very wide pocket door, and worked beautifully for the store.

Trent was distracted for a second by his cell going off in his pants pocket, so the wall didn't click all the way into place. He never noticed the lack of that final clicking sound so it remained a sliver open. The store lights came on full and opened soon after and before a full hour passed, the fake wall gradually opened just under a foot wide due exclusively to the floor flexing with the numerous footsteps walking down the aisles.

Dean's tank was the last to be hidden behind that wandering wall, so that meant that his and all the tanks directly above and below were also viewed as the wall slowly slid open over time.

He only realized this hours later when he unwillingly woke to the sound of a few kids loudly tapping the front glass of his tank. Their curious chatter and questions about what's inside the tank, that's just above their line of sight. The sound and vibrations waking him up with a jolt. He reached for his trusty knife under the pillow only to find none there. Instead, all that greeted his fingers was a fist full of thick paper.

He pushed it aside and careful as anything, peeked up and out of his mound of paper and cloth to see the tops of young faces, lightweight hair that went wherever it wanted in the air, and chubby fingers smearing God knows what against his glass.

Memories about where he is and why kids look so damned big coming back to him instantly. He swallowed his disappointed groan at the whole world, and waited out the kid's attention. Normally, he loved kids, but now? He'd rather not deal with their grabby fingers. Children don't have the best control on how they hold things. Either too tight, or not tight enough and dexterity doesn't come naturally. He wouldn't last five minutes. Human children or no, kids were sometimes cruel to small things. Dean shivered at the shadows that played on the wall of the hands reaching up to the lid, and was very grateful that it remained locked and secure. Earning a few sounds of sadness from them. If he wasn't so scared of them, he'd feel a little bad for hiding.

The young children moved on to more readily visible animals, declaring his cage empty, and were soon heard talking to a screeching parrot. Their parents now jogging noisily to circumvent disaster. After a two minute lecture, the parents allowed their kids to gently pet the dogs and cats. Animals that wouldn't be crushed in their hands.

After Dean got over his alarming wake up tap, he found himself shifting in his bed to watch the kids talk to the animals like they were best friends. It was so sweet and innocent it helped him relax and smile at them. From this safe distance away of course. The parents followed after the kids and encouraged them to pick out something special for their home. Carefully steering them away from things that require constant attention to ones more self reliant and easy to keep. Each family that came by browsing around either left with a pet, or the perfect toy or treat for their furry family member.

Dean heard one couple talking about the proper diet for a chinchilla which reminded him that he was getting hungry himself. He waited for the coast to be clear to run over the short few inches between his bed and the deep food dish to grab a couple of berries to bring back to munch on safely under cover. He found himself freezing still whenever someone walked by, most of the time in mid chew as he waited for the colossal danger to pass.

At about 6pm, when it was getting close to closing time, he heard Trent walk over to the tanks. The store owner wasn't really paying attention as he faced the main part of the store and reached blindly behind him. A large hand pulled the fake wall back further to view the pets as he spoke on the phone. Sounding like he'd said this all before a number of times, and was getting frustrated at repeating himself.

Dean only caught his side of the conversations. “- I have no new information than what I gave you.” A pause as Trent peered in in Dean's direction, spotting the movement under the rag and papers. “Yes, it looks like a Winchester but I assure you!-” he was cut off and rubbed at the place above his nose, half glaring at Dean who cowered further under the covers as if it would do any good.

“I have heard the rumors of that old building too. I assure you that I do not believe that this is a real Winchester. I do not think that -” Trent stopped again and blinked, “Hello? _Hello?_ ” and clicked his phone off with a grumble. Facing Dean's tank, he leaned over slightly to address him in a more somber tone. “Sorry little fella, looks like it's going to be a little harder for you to find a new home than the others, but we will. Have to have hope is all.” And he brought up his free hand to tap a few times on his glass wall before leaving him there.

Dean now knew the reason why no one bought him during the day when so many were interested last night. The news of the auction house must have spread far and wide and the fear that he really was a Winchester kept them all from risking their lives. It probably would not have been so hard to be adopted off if the auction house didn't... well... _blow the fuck up_.

The Winchester legacy as told by monsters rampages on apparently, even if he was only a small part of the demolition. He got the ball rolling for its downfall so maybe they weren't too far off for their fear of him. Even if all he wants is to go the hell home. To stop being surrounded by monsters, cages, and hands of all sizes for five freakin' minutes and sleep for a damned week.

The store had those last minute human shoppers and he actually looked forward to seeing Lade again this upcoming night. Trent did a double check around before closing and locking the front doors. He made the feeding rounds and then turned off all the lights. The night animals started to wake and make soft sounds all around him.

Dean stood and stretched out his cramped limbs. Snagging a juicy ripe strawberry slice that was longer and wider than most watermelons. The taste of it was stronger at the red part so he skipped the tough pale inside altogether that didn't really have a strong flavor of its own. Spitting out the strawberry seeds like one would a watermelon's, his tongue had a hard time convincing his head that he was not eating an inside out watermelon.

He welcomed the energy boost that warmed his chest. Being vigilant all day wore him out even if he just laid there in the bed the whole time. He couldn't sleep at all when there was that one possibility that there'd be a click of his lock overhead and a hand appearing all around him. He knew that it would be a few hours before the college kid came in for his shift again, and took this chance to sleep and wait for Lade's return.

He didn't know yet if he wanted to spill the beans and admit he is who they say he is to the college kid, that may freak him out too much. Dean did want the young man to know that he appreciated the kindness and thought about how to show it. Maybe prove to the kind giant that he'd make a good pet after all.

Dean told himself it was solely to get out of here, but more and more, a part of him started to feel like one of the other animals he was housed next to. He was doing the same things they were doing all day long. Sleep, eat, drink, and hide from people. They didn't appear to want to be adopted any more than he did. But he was already making up his mind that if he was to be bought, he'd rather it be Lade than some stranger.

Dean had gotten to know the kid in just that short time. His character, his personality. Dean knew he'd be in good hands. He fell asleep easier than he had in awhile, waiting to see that kind face again.

Dean found himself waking up long after the night shift started. Apparently, Lade was avoiding that section altogether. Damn. He may have missed his chance to appeal to the giant and win his friendship. Or ownership if Dean's being honest with himself and calling a duck a duck. Because that's what this is. Right? Transfer of ownership. Dean gave up trying to get Lade's attention by waving his arms around and sulked in the corner.

He could hear the kid, but it was obvious that he was keeping his distance. Lade only came over when a customer specifically demanded his help with one of the lizards. During the whole thing, the kid never once looked down at Dean's tank and his heart sunk. He gave up trying to be seen and watched as creatures came and went. Pointed fingers at him and moved on when he didn't respond.

The next day and night went the same as before. The only difference is Dean had lost hope of being found, adopted, or even talked to again by the kid. He ate mechanically, slept when he could, and watched as pets came and went. Monster stores must be rare because it seemed as though there were always creatures coming and going. Pets and masters alike with the high turnover. And yet he stayed.

Another day of this.   
Trent noticed fewer customers coming in, the ones that did were all saying the same thing, warning that there were many hunters in town. He tried his best to reassure them all, that they will pass them by so long as they keep their noses clean and stay home, but he himself was worried too. More than once, he'd cast a glance towards the small tanks that held his special critters. One in particular, that was starting to make him wonder...

He kept the peace in his store, and stayed open when other supernatural stores were closing shop till the danger passes and he had a lot to contemplate about that decision. If shutting shop would be the thing that alerts the hunters to something wrong. He'd need a reason to post on the door, one that humans and especially hunters would accept at face value. He drew up a list of plausible excuses with, water damage being the least eyebrow raising. His store wasn't old enough for a remodel, and a gas leak would raise too many alarm bells in his customers' minds. He still wanted to keep his store after all this, so he circled 'water damage repair' a few times.

The small creature that looked like a Winchester hadn't moved much in a couple of days, and he wanted to get an examination of it, but, he couldn't get his head to stop swimming at the possibility that he's holding the real hunter hostage. If those were the small things' friends out there, on a killing spree looking for him. Trent shuddered at the thought and took in all the innocent faces around him.

Lade had asked for the night off to be home with his girlfriend. His own fears getting the best of him. The kid was trying so hard to ask without asking for Trent to just close the store. To go to ground for awhile and be safe.

Trent couldn't ask the kid to come in and work when he was clearly terrified for his life and the lives of everyone there, should a hunter show up during his shift. Hunters had a habit of never letting their true names out there because names have power. If he did know the name of every hunter, Trent would have simply added them to the banned list to keep them out of his store. But, new hunters popped up all the time, like weeds that killed everything in sight. There was no way in purgatory that he'd be able to list them all, so he vowed to be extra vigilant. The Winchester name was far too well known for any monster or witch to dare summon them. Like asking death itself to drop by. Trent was about to add it to the banned list but paused. If the famous hunters would be alerted to their name being added to a spell somehow, and be drawn here to find out why. They had to have a few tricks up their sleeves. No hunter survives that long without having some kinds of secret weapons.

Trent put the list away for now, he did not want to risk writing down either Winchester name, just in case. The store owner took a few minutes to get enough courage to walk towards the tanks. He brought with him treats for the animals, and the best pick of berries. He swallowed thickly and told himself to get a grip. It's _his_ store, and everything in it is under _his control_. He has nothing to fear here. Trent nodded to himself and walked bravely back towards the tanks.

The one that looked like the hunter was idly throwing the tiny pea sized rubber ball against the opposite wall and barely even looked at him as he carefully pulled the food dish out to take out the old uneaten berries and replace them with fresh ones. Even though the little thing didn't eat much, Trent couldn't bring himself to offer less food. The little one might take offense to that or think that it did something wrong and that it is a punishment.

Trent froze and darted his eyes over to the thing who was staring at him now. Somewhat expectantly. Trent added a few more berries and his voice cracked slightly as he said, “It's ah, it's a nice night out tonight.” and gestured to the window, only belatedly realizing that from the tank's position and the shelves in the way, they wouldn't see more than a sliver of light from the parking lot. He hummed at himself for the stupid comment. Rubbing it in to the little guy. “Did you want to have something different? I have treats here.” Trent reached for the packet of gerbil bites that resembled cookies but made up of dried jam and wheat flour. He debated with himself before tossing in a couple towards the dish. If this thing is a Winchester, it sure as hell isn't acting like one. It went back to playing with the tiny ball. Rolling it around it's hands before flopping over to face away from him inside the cozy nest.

Trent exhaled the tension and nearly laughed at himself. No hunter would be this calm and accepting of their surroundings. It was, in the end, just a small dumb critter. He moved on to feed the others the same things, and the night passed by quietly. His business suffering from the nearby hunter raids. He sighed and returned to the front counter to wait for someone to show up.

Another day passed and Trent was pleased that he was right. Business started to trickle in when it seemed like the threat had passed and the hunters were following the trails of fleeing monsters further from the nearby town as they hightailed it far away. He was relieved because working nearly around the clock in his store was tiring.

Lade returned to work with a sheepish expression on his harried face from his strong convictions the night before. Trent assuaged his fears. “Hunters are nothing to take lightly. I'm glad they're gone, and I wouldn't want you working when you didn't feel safe. But from what I heard in the community, is that they're all gone now. I hope the unfortunate ones make it, and that their smart enough to stop running and blend in. Hunters go after strange behaviors and follow the trails to the end. You were smart to lay low.”

Lade scuffed a toe on the floor and shrugged without looking up at Trent and the owner didn't push for more. He handed over the keys to the store and pat Lade on the back before stumbling tiredly out the door and towards home and his waiting bed.

Business picked up back to normal, and as an odd twist of fate, more of the supernatural creatures were being adopted. When he asked, Lade was given a surprising answer, “We want them to have a safe home. When they're all in one place? That's like a beacon to hunters.”

It gave him something to think about. But, for all the creatures he sold at night, that one that's been on his mind remained.

Trent said that he would not restock the shelves from his suppliers, not yet. Letting the creatures be sold off at the normal price, even though he's sure he could double it and still have them sold. His customers were that eager to get the helpless pets a safe home. Trent took some offense to that, but he was not about to argue with paying customers. Especially ones that wanted the creatures to be safe. Half of the tanks were empty now, with more and more being adopted daily, sometimes hourly. But that humanoid looking one remained, and it was sad and worrisome at the same time.

With fewer options for special creatures in the store, the ones remaining got more and more attention than ever before as potential owners came to 'rescue' them.

Dean longed for an end to the sight of hands; all the poking, tapping, reaching, and grabbing. Lade must have gotten over his phobia of him by that point, because he let _everyone_ handle the small man. Eager to get him out of there no doubt. Dean's lack of reaction put the shoppers off of buying him, and they inevitably went for something more sociable.

Dean didn't even try to talk to Lade. What would be the point?

Dean knew in his heart that he deserves this. There was nothing to stop the constant stream of guilt running through his head. At leaving Sam alone. Of all the hurt he's caused over his lifetime. And more recently, of getting Cas killed. _That_ he will never forget or forgive of himself. The one angel that went to bat for him time and time again and he failed him. His half baked idea of freeing multiple angel graces and having them enter Cas's vessel... it was rash, stupid and unforgivable. Cas must have experienced searing white hot pain from all of those graces before he went supernova.   
He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye.

Dean slept more than he was awake, ate less but never lost weight, only his strength. There was no use for it anymore. Either he'd be adopted and live out the rest of eternity as a pet, since he was unable to turn soul even after all this time. Or, he wouldn't be adopted, and eventually destroyed to save on the cost of feeding him and storing him in a prime location on the shelf.

To him, it was clear that Trent was waiting for the old stock to be sold before buying all new from wherever the hell the giant got them. Dean heard about animal shelters putting the cats and dogs down when its obvious that the wont be adopted. When they reach their expiration date. Dean wondered what Trent would do to dispose of the little man that was only sucking down resources and valuable space. Scaring away business every minute he's there.

Dean hung his head and waited for the ax to fall. More hands, more potential buyers, and more uneasy mutters about how much he resembled the famous murderer.

He started marking hashmarks on the wall, of all the times he's been rejected here. Either by a passing sneer or fearful look. There were so very many. No one wanted him. He found himself wondering if he actually wanted to be wanted. If there was something left in him that was worth saving from this place before his expiration date was up.

He couldn't muster up any enthusiasm when buyers came by to gaze at the remaining creatures. His features and fake smile too small to take clear notice unless they were pressed right against his tank, and by then, he was backing up in fear of the fangs and unnatural eyes of the monsters. The hot breaths fogging up the glass reminding him of being nearly eaten and he couldn't help but back up in fear. No one wanted a pet to be constantly scared of them. He knew he was shooting himself in the foot, but he's been through too much trauma lately to even fake being happy and eager to go home with these monsters.

After another couple passed with more disparaging comments, he fell to his butt and shuffled over to the wall to make two more notches, bringing it up to 80. He sighed and drank some water and waited for the next monster to pass to have them reject him as well. He blinked down at the words he'd written absently and crossed it out with a sneer of his own. They were in blocky letters next to the hash marks, 'kill me'.

If anyone saw that, they'd take him up on the offer. After another two hours, he wrote, 'please save me' instead and by morning, crossed those words out too. He stopped eating altogether and wondered if he'd be able to just sleep until he lost all the energy his soul had left, and disperse into the air. Never to trouble anyone ever again.

Time passed and he found himself hallucinating. Seeing memories play out outside of his tank. The fights with Sam, his dad, Bobby. Everyone he let down. Remembering blow for blow the arguments and comebacks. The hurt and betrayal. He stared blankly as they were reenacted outside of the tank, at full scale. Titans in fights that somehow didn't knock over the shelves in the all out brawls. Echos of voices. All the times he's let his family down. He stared at them all with unseeing eyes. And, as if to end it with the granddaddy of his recent crimes, he heard the swish of a long coat walking down the aisle. A low rumbling voice whispering his name, that was so familiar and missed that he nearly sobbed from the physical pain in his chest. He was so very sorry for getting Cas killed, that when he saw the huge angel walk towards his tank, he peered up with an expression of utter sadness and guilt. Dean didn't remember this hallucinated reenactment, but, over the years, it must have happened at some point, and he was forced to witness the moment unfold. Waiting to hear in Cas's words how he let the angel down. Perhaps it was when he was going to say yes to Michael, or not believing Cas when he said Raphael was a threat. Or any number of times Dean wasn't there for his best friend.

Castiel, deceased angel of the lord, had slowly walked towards his pathetically small tank and leaned over to peer inside. Blue eyes blow wide as they stared in at Dean as he laid on his side, weeping into the paper strewn ground. The guilt overwhelming.

“I'm so sorry, Cas.” He got out brokenly. Covering up his face and willing his mind to stop showing him his best friend's face. His heart couldn't take the pain.

“Sorry for what?”

Dean's mind whited out.

 

 

 

 

author's note: - Ok, technically, this is a half second after the end of this chapter, but I just couldn't wait any longer!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is basically written so it shouldn't take more than a couple days to finish. Had to split this one up or it would be done much later than I wanted. 
> 
> What do y'all think?


	33. Seeing the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THEN
> 
> Sam and the girls finally meet up with Cas and together they go after Dean.

Chapter Thirty three:

Seeing the Light

 

THEN

 

After days of searching on foot without a break, many many cities and towns, Castiel finally found the remains of the auction house on the outskirts of the last one in the county before it turned to farmlands and wilderness. It was utterly deserted of human, animal, and monster-kind life. There were no solid 'stones to turn over' to search underneath for any clues for at least 300 feet around the pulverized crater. It was clear that many people had been here at one point, from the numerous footprints and tire marks in the sea of dust. He got the scent of gunpowder heavy in the air and was sure that even normal humans would be able to pick up on it too. Likely hunters had swarmed here, but, there was nothing remaining now. Still, he called out Dean's name for hours, hoping to hear or see any sign of the small hunter, or his glowing soul. As night descended and the stars came out.

It became obvious that Dean was no longer here, or if he was, he was too quiet for the angel to hear further into the wooded area. The angel had no idea what happened after he'd left for heaven with his brother's graces. Their condolences echoing in his mind and shoved aside. By midnight, he finally felt recharged enough to use his newly feathered wings to fly again, so he decided to head towards the bunker first. That was the last place he'd known Sam, Jody, and Claire were. Even if it had been weeks since then.

The trip to the bunker wore him out and he sighed in frustration once he got there. There was no one home. He grabbed one of the many trench coats that Dean kept buying for him as gag gifts. Christmas, birthdays, Halloween costumes as tax accountants, the older Winchester loved finding excuses to buy Castiel a trench coat that was near identical to the last. Castiel kept on thanking him each time with a grateful smile and Dean vowed to make him crack one day. So far, they were up to a dozen tan trench coats in Castiel's room.

waited around for someone to come back, because they might just be out for a food run. He knew that was what got he and Dean snatched up in the first place, and hoped that wasn't the case for Sam and the others.

When this is all over, they'd need to stock up the bunker to its limit of all the essentials to keep from having so many food and supply runs. Since the brothers did not have to eat much, it would be mainly what he likes. And he's perfectly fine with a plethora of canned goods over fresh if it meant fewer trips. He knew he was overreacting, and the likelihood of being kidnapped again weren't that high, but he never wanted a repeat of that for the brothers ever again. Also knowing that the Winchesters wouldn't take too well to confinement here for very long, he'd need to think of ways to keep them safe at home. Surely they'll comply with his reasons when he eventually comes up with some...

Even to his own ears, that sounded stupid and unrealistic. Not because they didn't trust Castiel's judgment, but, they attract trouble by the apocalypse load, and if it doesn't come to them, they seek it out. Ever the mantra of 'Saving People and Hunting things.' Castiel knew they wouldn't stop for their own good so he had to make peace with it and fight alongside them. He wasn't one to 'sit on sidelines' as Dean says.

Castiel wandered around the bunker, calling names into the hallways and getting no reply's. He found the box of charged cell phones Sam and Dean had showed him and picked one at random. Finding Jody's name and number, he dialed and waited.

“Hello?” Jody answered warily, not recognizing the number.

It felt so good to hear that she was alright. Castiel greeted her and heard an excited squeak back. Before she could ask too many questions, he politely cut her off with the answers. Everything major that happened after he and Dean left the bunker. She put him on speaker phone because she was driving somewhere and Castiel could hear Claire's excited voice as well. When Sam's voice came on the line next, his heart lurched. He knew he had to tell Sam that his brother was missing.

“We'll get him back.” Sam said with his diminished voice. Barely there over the line, competing with the sounds of the others nearby and the constant rumble of Jody's jeep going down some highway. Sam's voice was no less determined and strong.

Castiel firmed his resolve and asked where they were currently. Jody said they'd be arriving in a small town on the way to the blast site that he confirmed was his own doing. Castiel asked them to clarify their precise current location, as it seems as though Jody was planning on waiting in the town for him to show up from the bunker so they could all go together.

Claire peered out the window at the dark night and saw a passing exit ramp sign for, 'Floyde' and screamed when the backseat of the jeep sank suddenly at the sound of feathers rustling. Alex had jolted back with a yelp of her own at the sudden arrival of a tall man in a tan trench coat sitting right next to her. Castiel found himself sitting on someone's purse and shifted it out from underneath him with an apologetic grimace.

“What the _fuck?!_ ” Alex pushed herself against her door, about to open it and escape but rooted to the spot by the fact that her family was still in the car and she didn't want to just _ditch_ them.

“Apologies.” Castiel bowed his head slightly, but held a satisfied smirk just out of sight for being able to fly into a moving car again.

Jody kept turning in her seat while also trying to watch the road as she reassured her kid, “That's Castiel, Alex! It's ok!” Turning and taking several breaths to keep the jeep on the road. She'd never had an angel pop into a moving car like that and her heart was racing. Alex wasn't actually familiar with Cas either, so she was doubly spooked.

Sam scrambled up Claire's arm that was half bent from holding him in one hand and the cell in the other. The phone line still connected until she hung up on her end. The shrunken hunter reached her shoulder that was high enough to see over the bench seat to stare wide eyed at the newly arrived angel.

“Cas...” Sam breathed. Hardly believing that he was really there.

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel sighed, relieved and happy to see that he was alright. He reached a hand forward and Sam didn't hesitate in clambering on. The hand curled up around him and brought his small friend close to his chest in their version of a hug. “I am so glad you're alright.” He said softly down at the small man, mindful of his noise level to little ears.

“But your wings... I thought you couldn't...” Sam backed up a step on the hand to peer up at the head above.

“Did you want to turn soul so you can see for yourself?” Castiel was practically wiggling in his seat without actually moving, eyes lit up with mirth.

Sam's grin started to form and grow before he burst into a bright ball of wispy light. The soul twirled in place as he settled into that form, and darted up closer to Cas's face and then behind him. Moving right through the seat to better view the wings that were also passing through the corporeal world and resting among the luggage in the back of the jeep. Sam made a few passes around the wings that shifted and turned for better viewing access. Both were lifting up and out of the jeep itself which had Sam nearly rising up out of the car in alarm that the passing wind outside of the car would catch in the wings and pull Cas out. But, of course, nothing happened because angel wings weren't in this plane of existence as solid things. The air outside the car passing through them as if they were never there.

Sam watched Cas stretch them to their limits, wing tips quivering before he folded them up again and turn his head to view Sam better.

The humans had no idea what was going on, only that the newest arrival into the jeep was looking pretty damned proud of himself as his shoulders shimmied and wiggled.

Sam had never seen proper angel wings before and the awesome sight nearly made him weep. Long glossy black feathers gleamed in the lights of the jeep and passing headlights and street lamps. The black wasn't actually black, but more like every color imaginable, and some that weren't, that were as dark as they could possibly get just before turning pitch black. The colors swirled much like oil on water along each of the long feathers and Sam felt the power emanating from them. He kept his own wispy soul light from contacting the feathers even as they shifted and turned for him. Unsure what making contact would do to him now that they were far stronger than the last time he'd come into contact.

Even though these were the first angel wings he saw with unbroken bones or feathers, he knew that quite a few feathers were still missing. Comparing these wings with other birds he'd seen before, the near bald patches were visible when they were completely unfolded. Still, they were massive and impressive as fuck and Sam found himself just staring at them with his spherical soul vision. Watching the feathers interact with a different plane and the dust that floated there. Churned up with each rustle.

Sam risked a closer look and would smile if he had a face, at the fact that more feathers were coming in. Peeking out from the skin between the new feathers, still cocooned in their protective sheaths that would crumble away when the blood stopped flowing to the feather as it formed. Half of the new ones would likely be ready to open fairly soon, with more bumps showing the next batch after that. No bird replaces every feather at once when molting, and Sam suspected the same went with angels as well. The broken feathers were still there, but he figured it was only till they were no longer needed to fill in the gaps.

He'd seen Cas's wings for weeks before the kidnapping, and they always hurt to look at. He and Dean just got better at not commenting on their broken burnt state to the angel directly. Giving away how much they felt for the big guy. It was like looking at broken limbs that could never be splinted. The hollow bones splintered with deep cracks all along the radius and ulna, and the few existing feathers were never in good shape, even after preening. Just too many barbs missing from each feather, and too much muscle mass gone from the wings from lack of use. Wasting away to nothing.

They were so sure he'd never fly on his own again, but now... now Cas looked more like a bird that was shedding their old winter feathers for spring feathers. Strong and rich in color, and seemingly larger than the ones before.

Sam finally came back to Cas's front again and the giant angel dutifully held his hands cupped at the ready. Sam became corporeal again and actually managed to land somewhat gracefully, if crouched and wobbly. It was still a work in progress to not land on his head when he becomes his solid form.

Sam held onto an offered thumb to keep himself standing and looking up at Cas's grin. “How did it happen?”

That made the grin falter and fade. He went back to his story, and reluctantly explained all that he witnessed towards the end. The auction, the fight in the room that held the other beings, the burst of light and the sudden arrival of many angel graces in his vessel. Sam had so many questions but held back till it was done and he was left with an ache in his heart when Cas finished with his arrival in the jeep.

“So... nothing? No idea where... where he...”

Cas looked away and sighed. “I searched. Everywhere.”

“But that's where we are headed now. Castiel, hunters from all around were being called in to eliminate the sudden burst of monster activity.”

“They...” Castiel clenched his teeth. Figuring that that was a possibility. That hunters would have gone after the victims as well as buyers and sellers. He kept that to himself, for now. They might not understand his view on the other 'auction items'. He knew they were aware of good monsters, but he just did not want to talk about it. How his actions might have damned them all. Making them all blind and deaf and easy pickings for hunters.

The angel felt a small hand on his thumb, rubbing in even smaller circles. Blinking at the little man that he was sure he'd never see again.

“We'll find him, Cas. Dean's resourceful. He knows how hunters think, move. He can't go blind or deaf from your true form, since we were freakin' _inside_ your vessel before, surrounded by your grace, and it never hurt us. Never would like it does to living things.” a quick glance at the others in the jeep that towered over him in Cas's hands. Keeping to the topic instead of scaring the humans. “Dean still has all of his senses. And then some.” Sam referred to his soul self, the spherical vision and the ability to see more than mere mortals with two eyes. UV, radio waves, x-rays, other planes of reality like the one that Cas's wings are one and a few more that are more shadows and feelings than tactile objects. “He's far from blind.”

Claire spoke up, “I heard about a quote like that. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.” Grinning slightly. “Dean's the most likely person to make it out alright.”

Castiel thought about that quote, having had most of human idioms downloaded into his brain a few years back via that bastard angel, Metatron. Her words did manage to bolster his mood and he sat forward to watch the road ahead as Jody kept on driving. They'd managed to get a full hour closer to the auction house since Cas's arrival and the recaps.

Now that they were all on the same page, they watched the miles fly by beneath the wheels. Castiel would have offered to fly them all there sooner, but those two trips wore him out again. He'd have to wait to recharge his mojo. It was getting faster to heal, and far better than never being able to fly again, so he didn't dare complain about the ache in the still forming wings. Keeping himself from overusing the wings in case they needed his strength when they find Dean again. He wasn't as powerful as that day in the barn when he'd first met his family, but he was healing and better than he'd been in a long, long while.

Once they got closer to their destination, they made a few calls and found out that most of the monsters had already been taken care of. Now the ample hunters were picking off the harder to reach ones further out. No one they called had heard of a small human like one, so they feared the worst. There were a few hunters remaining outside that night, most having left for the trails leading out before they went cold.

Castiel was hesitant to keep Sam in his pockets during the questioning of hunters, but Sam insisted. He wasn't about to be left back in the jeep. Castiel was scared of something bad happening yet again but was eventually calmed by the other humans that went with him. Jody and Claire were becoming naturals at hunting, but Alex would hang back from their group and be lookout. She wasn't eager to talk, and let them lead the way.

Claire had an idea when she spotted a hunter's dog with a glowing collar as it bound around the trees, searching in the dark. Claire's eyes lit up with Sam's right after, and he jumped on the idea before it was even properly said and long before it was planned out. They'd have an advantage that the others hunters didn't have. A unique way to track down what they wanted.

They all went to an animal shelter in the next town over rather than waste time finding and subsequently kidnapping someone's pet. They managed to basically steal the dog with the largest, longest nose, since those prove to have better sense of smell versus smaller noses. Once they were in the clear, Sam turned soul again and possessed it. It had been a couple weeks since he'd taken over an animal and to return to the mindset he'd need to control it without permanently harming the animal. Either physically or psychologically from being possessed by a human soul.

Cas directed them the rest of the way to the auction house site. Sam's thick fur danced along his body and the second the back hatch was open, he was bounding out of the jeep on four paws. He trotted around the crater in the ground, giving an impressed wuff towards Castiel who shoved his hands in his pockets. Sam turned his attention to the ground to sniff out where Dean might have gone. Jody angled the jeeps headlights to better illuminate the crater and surrounding area. A mist forming on the ground overnight. The humans grabbed their guns and flashlights and quickly followed after the dog.

Sam heard the others following close behind him but worried that their scent would confuse his nose so he turned and growled at them softly before bringing a paw to the dirt. In long scratch marks in the settled dust, he wrote, 'stay here'. And gave them puppy dog eyes to know that he wasn't saying it to be mean. The glowing white eyes on the dog made it look intimidating but the soul beneath knew how to put people at ease so he purposefully made himself less threatening in his posture and how he walked. Bouncing his steps just enough to keep from outright stalking and alerting the other people nearby into thinking he's a dangerous animal hunting people. Even if, that's kinda what's happening...

The dog was a shepherd mix and they didn't need anyone calling animal control on them about a wild dog running amok.

Sam's sensitive dog nose picked up on a whiff of ozone scent that was unlike the thousands of other scents and odors in the area. He snorted into the dust to rid it from his nose and try again in a nearby spot. Circling around the area and swaying his head over the area until he found it again. Knowing now that it wasn't a fluke or trick of the nose. This scent did not smell like anything living, but it did have an achingly familiar tone to it that he couldn't describe.

His tail started wagging and he followed the faint trail of ozone and the slight tingle of electricity in the air. Tail swinging faster and faster as it led him up to a large tree. His fore paws raised to the trunk and his nose pressed to the wood. Knowing that it went further up.

Castiel came over when Sam got back to all fours and paced around the tree. His ears perked up and Sam whined a little before barking sharply at Cas to stop the angel from coming closer and contaminating the site with his own scent of electricity. Sure that it would overpower the little whisping tingle of energy and ozone with his massive angelic presence. It was already almost overwhelming where Cas was standing, a good hundred feet away yet.

Sam furrowed his brow, the glow from his eyes narrowing as well, and pressed his nose to the ground and yapped excitedly when he picked up the scent again further out from the tree. He had to pace side to side to follow it though and wondered why it would be so disjointed and scattered. Realization dawned on him. Someone was likely carrying his brother. Sam scented around again, and quickly found the strong odor of something vaguely panther-like and easily followed that for a good few dozen feet. He had no clear idea what a panther smells like exactly, only that that's what the dog brain supplied at the scent. Sam's nose also detected the scent that he was quickly associating with Dean. Whatever this thing was, it had Dean.

Sam growled under his breath and his tail stopped wagging as he stared off in the rough direction the scent was taking. Almost a straight shot back to town.

Thankful that there were no vehicles involved, Sam kept on following the trail.

The others had to jog to catch up and Jody got a nod in reply to the question if they should follow him or stay back. Now that he had a stronger trail, it was easy, and he went from walking to a trot once they caught up to the large dog moving with purpose in every footfall.

In town, their group got more than a few odd looks from the few people still out this late. A tall black haired man in a trench coat was chasing leisurely after a rather large dog that resembled a bloodhound/German shepherd mix in the streetlights overhead, that had something glowing on its face but was too fast moving to tell if it was a collar or headband. The man and dog were followed by three ladies that were waving politely at people to mind their own damned business.

From the viewpoint of the town's people, at the pace the dog traveled, it shouldn't have taken any of them long to catch it, and the slow-speed chase was being talked about by passing people left and right. The dogs eyes mentioned more than once.

One guy came out of a store and turned twoards them to walk back to his car and saw the dog off of a leash and their group right behind. Being a good Samaritan, he tackled Sam to the ground. “Got it! Got it for ya!” He called joyfully to Castiel and the girls and received a murderous glare from the four people. The confused helpful citizen found himself being dragged forcibly up off of the dog and then off of the ground in a one fisted grip by the man who seemed to be ready to punch his lights out.

Castiel didn't bother saying anything, seeing as the poor guy was freaked by the strange scene he found himself in. Expecting to be thanked for catching their escaped pup instead of _this_.

“Sorry! I thought he got loose on you! I have a dog that slips his leash and collar all the time, and I thought...” He turned his head to look longingly at the ground with a wide eyed look. Finally his feet touched sidewalk again as Cas set him down and he heard the snickers coming from the blond young lady behind him. They now knew he hadn't gotten a good look at Sam's eyes or else he'd be more freaked than he was.

Claire cleared her throat and said, “Sammy boy always goes without a leash. He's a good dog that never runs away. Thanks for your help though!”

Jody was at a loss for a few seconds. She hoped the guy didn't bother calling the cops and to circumvent that entirely, she dug out her own badge to flash at him too quick to read. Adding her own explanation. “Drug dog in training.” Nodding after the others who resumed their quest.

Sam was a bit miffed at the hard tackle and how easy it was for him to be pinned by a regular civilian, but had bigger things on his mind than caring that he's now dirty as hell from the ground tackle. His knee smarted at how it hit the dirt first but the guy clearly wasn't aiming to hurt, just to pin him down. Sam had to shake himself out or else he'd spin around and bite that dude in the ass like his instincts were ordering him to do. Turning his nose back to the task at hand over retribution.

Sam nearly walked into traffic with how focused he was on following the trail. Corrected by Cas's sharp warning call again and again. Sam snorted at the inconvenience of having to wait for cars to pass when his brother is so close. The scent growing stronger and stronger.

He stopped when the trail of ozone and energy stopped. He paced around and even though he smelled the monster's scent, it was mingled with hundreds of other monster's smells and odors. The stronger scent of that panther left the area went a different way than it arrived. He winced and detected that Dean was taken here, but must not have left. At least, not out of the front door since there was only one path.

Sam ran around the building before coming to the front again and seeing his family finally catch up. Apparently, he'd been running faster than they could go, and felt a little sheepish at that. But, they're here now and can open this door for him.

Sam debated letting the dog go before they found Dean for sure, so he sat down near the entrance. Castiel knelt in front of him to keep his voice from having to be too loud for unwanted ears. “Is he in here?”

Sam nodded and pointed with his nose. Whining softly at his inability to turn door knobs. He didn't even try because it's been a while since he opened any door on his own. Mainly due to the fact that as a soul he could float through them, as his own corporeal being, he could usually slip under the doors, and as an animal, he lacked thumbs. Strange... the things he missed that people take for granted.

Cas opened up the door to the store and Jody caught Sam in her arms before the dog followed him in. Explaining, “You're dirty as hell, Sam.” Gently berating him. Wiping her hands along his coat to get rid of the bulk of dust and debris. “Gotta look the part.” And pointed up at the sign for the establishment.

The store would have appeared closed if not for the lights on inside at half power, and the people seen shopping from the windows. Only then did Sam realize it was a pet store. Eyes widening a little. Thinking about how incredibly odd it was that a pet store would be open this late. He let Jody brush the fur as clean as she could with just her hands and a handkerchief. He was anxious to get inside and find Dean.

Claire and Alex didn't have to wait so they followed the angel on in and got serious side eye from the scrawny man about their age behind the counter. Alex went to sweet talk the cashier while the others searched. The guy looked like he was about to go towards Cas so Claire helped Alex keep him preoccupied. The guy started looking a little spooked so they tried their best to flirt and keep his attention on them and let Castiel search in peace.

“Lade's a cute name, - ” they continued on. Talking to the cashier about how odd it was to be open at night and when the guy manages to sleep and complimenting him on everything from his hair to his shoes. It came more naturally to Alex than Claire so she let her sister do the most work while she kept an eye out for trouble and gave the occasional comment here and there. Giving the others enough time to search.

Jody slipped in with Sam and he walked the aisles. Jody discretely grabbed a collar from a display and holding Sam back long enough to slip it over his head with an apologetic look. A leash came next so the clerk wouldn't kick them all out and raise a fuss if there was nothing here. If there _was though.._. if they did find Dean in this building. They all knew that the clerk wouldn't live through the night. No one gets between them and their family. Jody trusted her girls to handle him on their own should he try and stop them.

Sam allowed Jody to follow closer behind him while on the leash, but he couldn't narrow down Dean's scent to just one spot. It was spread out everywhere. They noticed Castiel walk down the aisles, carefully watching where he stepped and suddenly they felt very stupid for not doing the same. Sam planted his feet to the spot and whined as he stared at the ground.

Jody caught on and knelt down to look under the shelves. No sign of anything there. They kept this place very clean and she'd be impressed if she had the time. Sam hunched down to sniff the underside of the shelves and displays. Grunting at his inability to locate Dean when all he could smell is the small man's scent in here. Sam ignored his nose and started scanning the shelves and anywhere he could reach his head into. Thinking that his small brother might be hiding among the toys or bags of food and treats. His dog side got excited over some of the bacon flavored treats and Sam promised the mind that he'd have as much as he wanted once they get his brother back. Reward for a job well done. The dog side wriggle with happiness as it eased up on its fight with Sam for control of it's body.

Sam raised an eyebrow at that. The dog was easy to please.

Jody was scanning the higher shelves Sam couldn't reach. Listening to her girls sweet talk the clerk. Knowing that Claire likely had one hand on her pearl handled pistol aimed at him under the counter the whole time should he try anything.

All of them were getting looks from the other store patrons who started to file out of the store. Leaving their things behind, unpaid for and still in the baskets. Jody heard Sam snort at her, somehow understanding that they were no concern of theirs for now. They didn't have Dean.

They were likely monsters, but, since they decided to leave peacefully, the four hunters let them. Jody and Sam heard a slight gasp from the angel in the last aisle in the store. Rounding the corner and seeing Castiel slightly bent forward and looking into one of the shelves along the wall opposite the clerk. They came closer, hesitantly and hopeful as they heard him call Dean's name.

Cas paused at one of the small tanks, the last one on the wall at about five four and a half feet high and say in confusion, “Sorry for what?”

Sam's heart raced but he was standing still. Frozen to the spot. Jody was right behind him and unable to hear what Castiel just said. She was likewise watching and waiting to see what was going on since the angel was no longer searching.

Cas kept his position and his brow furrow at the tiny fish tank on the wall. There were at least two dozen similar sized tanks, with larger ones on the floor that held iguana like animals and other things that Sam had never seen before. Half of the tanks were empty but reeked of the supernatural.

At the other end of the room, they heard a shout from the clerk, “You can't go over there!” which raised Sam's hackles all the way up. He turned his glare towards the front of the store and growled. Turning again towards Cas who glanced his way for a moment before staring back at that same tank.

“Dean, it's alright, it's me.”

That was all the answer Sam needed to hear. Cas found his brother and his heart soared. Hope filling him up as he ran closer. Twining around Cas's legs and making him stumble a little.

“Sam, he's fine.” Before looking towards the front counter again. The noise of a scuffle heard loud and clear now. If it was a normal human running the store, they wouldn't have had supernatural things here for sale. Therefore, it was obviously a monster that was selling people to the public, and needed to die for its crimes.

Something broke at the front counter and Castiel cried out in worry, “Claire!” Castiel straightened, intent to save her now that he knows Dean's alive and seemingly uninjured, just upset.

Sam clenched his jaws tight before forcing himself to leave his brother with Cas and go see to the clerk. Cas was a step away from running to her aide, but Sam was faster.

Sam knew that Dean was safer with Cas here, than he'd be with Sam in this dog's body. Sam wasn't even tall enough to see Dean's prison so he was going to protect his trapped brother from the ultimate threat here now, the monster posing as a store clerk.

That bastard held his brother hostage in a small tank inside a fucking _pet store. He'd pay for this._ Sam snarled and leaped headlong into the fight. The weeks without his brother built up his anger and his resolve to get Dean back, whatever the cost to himself. Now he had something he could go after. Something with flesh and bones that he'd make sure never hurt anyone else again.  
The enraged growl that escaped the dog's mouth made the three at the counter stop their fight for a second and brace for the impact as the furred animal leaped towards the counter and aimed for the clerks throat with bared fangs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have today off thanks to an ice storm (that never actually showed up in my neck of the woods but the factory shut down anyway)   
> So you all get the chapter early!   
> Please direct all your hate mail for only doing backstory atm, to the comments section below so that I might feed off of them and write fluffiest fluff in the next chapter to appease my dear enraged fans :)
> 
> by the way - I refuse to lay out any kind of timeline for these events because I just don't wanna. (those things are hard!) basically, Dean an Cas kidnapped, gone for weeks (vague as hell) Dean's time in the store is the same as Cas's trip to heaven and the search on Earth and all of it is equal to the time Sam and Co search. and they all meet up when they meet up. I don't wanna split team free will up for any length of time again! Mainly because I couldn't think of what else to write about on Sam's side and keeping him from the story for so long sucked!


	34. You Light Up My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff!

Chapter Thirty Four:

You Light Up My Life

 

 

Lade didn't want this, any of this to happen. One minute, it was a normal business day, and the next... several humans march into his store with a dog that had glowing eyes. The presence of humans is unnerving enough by itself, given that, he hadn't been paying attention to what was going on outside the store to change the displays around temporarily. But what ramped up the adrenaline was how tense they were. Determined.

Any supernatural being that patrons at kindred 'super' stores knows that there was always a possibility that humans might wander in at any hour. It was the price they paid for the convenience of having a brick and mortar store. Almost no one gave ill will to the staff for having to hang around and wait to buy what they needed. Anyone that did raise a ruckus, risked exposing their world to humans and were usually dealt with by their communities before it escalated to the point of drawing unwanted attention. Case in point, Hunters.

These humans had an unnerving aura that surrounded them despite how they tried to appear casual. It tasted and even smelled like death and Lade wasn't fast enough to bar the doors before the tell tale signatures of _Hunters_ walked right in. Not just one or two, but _four_ along with a strange dog that was clearly smarter than your average pooch. Normal dogs stopped to sniff the display that's set up at dog nose height in front of the counter. Irresistible dog treats and toys. This one barely blinked its glowing white eyes before it started searching the aisles. It was given an important job to do here.

Lade's heart jumped into his throat, and his palms were sweaty, but he tried to play it off as just being nervous in front of the two young and objectively cute Hunters that were flirting with him. A blond and brunette that leaned on the glass counter to get a little closer to him. Trying coyly to get information out of him while the other two were likely checking out the place before the attack.

The few customers that were in his store caught onto the scent of Hunters at the same time as him and he thanked Mother Eve that the Hunters did not even bat an eye at their discrete departure.

He had one hysterical thought as he watched them all leave quietly, disjointed from thinking about what's going on now and how screwed he was. He thought 'no one's gonna shop here again.' But at the same time he was so very grateful that they weren't caught up in the mess too. He knew these people, he wouldn't wish Hunters on any of them so he stayed and played the part to buy them enough time to escape. Hoping that at least one of them would go get help. It was his only hope now.  
The two girls were trying their hardest to get him to flirt back but he only had eyes for the ones that were steadily making their way towards the back area where the pets are. Fear and dread pounded in his veins at the thought of what the poor little ones were experiencing. The animals started calling, crying. Their cages rattling as their instincts told them that danger was just outside of their pens. He knew that since all the animals and creatures were inside cages, they'd have no chance whatsoever of escaping their fate at the hands of these murderers.

Before he could stop himself, he shouted, “You can't go over there!”

The girls flirty demeanor changed in a single intake of breath. They swung at him and landed a few blows to his arms. Grabbing at his clothes to yank him over the counter for better access. Rage boiling to the surface when he fought back, defending himself.

Lade shoved the dark haired one away from the counter and she lost her balance and fell to the ground, the blond pulled at his shirt but he chopped his arm down to dislodge the hasty grab. He wasn't expecting such a powerful punch from her a second later and his ears rang from it. Going wide eyed at her when he realized he was engaged in a fight to the death with two of the four hunters. He swung back at her, hitting her arm instead of her head to simply knock her out, when she blocked and punched him again. He never wanted to hurt anyone and was ill equipped to handle this. His colony had no problem killing humans but he wasn't like them. He just wanted to get out and draw them away from his animals. He turned to run to the back room but it was now blocked by the brunette that had rounded the long counter. She had a jagged knife, up and ready, keeping him cornered, waiting for her chance.

His heart didn't know if it wanted to speed up or stop when he saw the gun come up in the blond's grip while the last woman was quickly rounding the shelves going by the sounds of things falling down in her haste.

Lade turned to grab something from the shelf behind him. He threw a very large bag of dog food at the blond to distract her from firing her gun. She went down backwards underneath the heavy bag with a surprised cry and the gun went flying. A shout came from the man at the back but he barely heard it.

Lade had one of those time freezing moments of clarity as he remembered that he works for _Trent_ , and Trent, knows _magic._ Trent knew when he decided to buy this building for his store that there was a risk of being robbed, or to a more extreme danger, that Hunters might come here. So Trent made up a few safeguards for personal protection. One of them was luckily in reach inside a porcelain cat behind Lade next to the store computer.

He pushed off the blond when she went in to make another grab at his clothes and managed to twist around and swing his arm out at the same time, shoving the statue to the ground at his feet and shattering it. The hex bag now exposed, glowed for a few seconds.

It was like someone plugged his ears for that short time, before he felt a throb of pressure all around his body. Then, nothing. Sounds returned to normal. The girls were regrouping, trying to find where the gun went without leaving their posts all around him that kept him from leaping the counter and slipping past. Lade froze in place. He had no way of knowing if the protection spell was working or not because if it is, then he has to stay put right here. Otherwise if he takes even one step away from the area, it assumes the threat had passed, and it's safe to leave.

But if it _isn't_ working, then he's stuck standing there in full view, waiting to be shot.

Lade cursed under his breath that Trent could have _at least told him_ what was supposed to happen so he would know if he should be duck and cover in the back room then out the door, or if he should stand his ground and wait for help to arrive.

Lade quickly raised his hands, placatingly, but they only saw him reaching out to attack.

The dog with the glowing eyes was suddenly tearing around the back wall and running full on at him with a vicious growl ripping out of its throat.

It was already large for a dog, and smart and working with Hunters so Lade knew that if there is no protective shield, he's gonna have to catch and kill the dog. Being a Nachzehrer meant that he's more than strong enough to do it, but he does _not_ want to. Trained dogs don't stop attacking unless ordered to, they'll bleed out before they give up. Reasoning with it is hopeless so he kept his arms up, ready to catch it in mid air and prepared for the attack.

The dog leaped towards his face and with his eyes winced closed, he didn't know what happened at first. The moment of contact. All he heard was a sick sounding thunk and then a body falling to the counter and slipping off to the floor. A yelp of pain let him know that at least it was still alive if hurt. At least the shield didn't break the poor things neck with how fast it was launching itself at him. He saw it scramble to its feet and yelp a few more times before it steadied itself and resumed the open mouth growl.

The last woman to attack had her gun raised and forwent warning as she fired at his chest. Lade heard the impacts hit the protective barrier and he was happy that he was alive, but scared as hell at the sight of two guns now pointing at him and firing at will directly towards his head. Logically, he knew he could be killed by a copper coin in his mouth, but he didn't want to find out if he could survive with a couple dozen bullets in his brain. He bared fangs at them and resisted attacking right back when he heard the click click from empty magazines.

The older woman approached the counter, just out of his reach. Glaring daggers at him the whole way. Her head angled to the blond, “You ok, Claire?” to which the girl nodded firmly, both now glancing towards the brunette who nodded next.

All three faced Lade and he kept his teeth bared as he breathed hard. No chance in hell of reigning in the fangs he figured he might as well use them. They attacked him first. He has every right to hiss and growl at them. But after a moment, nothing happened and he felt the terror of the situation sink into his bones. He was so fucking screwed.

He shrank back without moving too far from where he figured the edge of the barrier was. A silent standoff. The dog was on his feet and pacing. Snarling even more viciously than before. White eyes turned to slits. Too intelligent to be a dog, even an altered one to have glowing eyes. Something was beneath the surface.

Lade cleared his throat and raised his hands again, palms out. “Uhhhh... look. You can have the money. All of it. There's a safe ten feet away from me. Take what you want. Just ahh. Just don't hurt me, or the animals. They aren't dangerous. Please, leave them alone. I promise I wont come after you. I wont have anyone come after you. No one died, so let's just keep it that way. Alright?”

That got a raised brow from the woman who snapped, “You expect us to believe that?”

The blond girl waved her serrated knife in the air, saying, “You're a monster. All monsters are the same.”

“I'm not! I swear I'm not. We, we just want to live in peace with humans. Those creatures back there are harmless!”

“Creatures? You have a _human_ back there! You call him a _creature_? An _animal?_ ” the blond's fury was potent in the air. Gun rattling in her grip.

Lade looked incredulously at her, “What are you talking about?” His hands dipping to the sides. Confused what the hell they found that was... oh. Oh fuck. “You mean to say... oh no. Nonono he wasn't supposed to be real! He's mute, the little thing didn't say or do anything that seemed human. He was just a creature, Trent said. That it couldn't be the real... he couldn't be. Couldn't.” Lade's hand went to his mouth and he croaked out, “I-I-I'm... I'm gonna be sick.” eyes going watery and he hunched over with one hand still covering his mouth and the other went to wrap around his stomach.

The girls faltered their next accusations. He didn't seem to be lying. They watched him waver on his feet, trying to figure out if it was an act or not. Something rehearsed. But the clerk was practically dry heaving behind the counter. Skin flushed and sweating.

Alex grimaced at that. She'd seen plenty of sick people before at her hospital visits to know when someone's trying really hard _not_ to throw up. “Hey guys,” she said in a calmer tone, waving a hand, “Back up a little. Give him some space.”

Claire lowered her gun a little more to peer over at her sister. “What?!” she exclaimed. “No. He's a monster. Monsters need to die.”

Lade was sinking to the floor, knees failing him. If he thought he was screwed before... he thought back to all the interactions he had with the little one. How he treated him. Like a damned _animal_. He was powerless against he and Trent. Handled by dozens of customers. Oh _fuck._ That is the real Dean Winchester and he's seen the faces of all those that came in here. Not just the ones that handled him, but _everyone_. Dean Winchester and his group here are going to go on a murder spree and it's all his fault.

He lifted his head, swallowing down bile and he croaked out. “Please don't hurt them.” he got out before his stomach finally pushed its limits and he threw up in the trash. Glad that the bin was within the shield and close enough so he wouldn't be making a mess of his shoes right now.

There was an awkward pause with wet chunky sounds splattering inside the plastic bag. A pained grunt before the next batch heaved out. Jody hesitated a moment before holstering her gun. She approached the counter warily but felt some sympathy pains at the low groans coming from back there before they heard yet another round come up from his stomach. Normally, the monsters were a bit more, what's the word Dean uses, _kill-y_. This kid. He may be a monster but he's clearly not a big bad. It didn't make him any less dangerous, but, he seemed to be one of the good guys. In over his head here.

Sam had stopped his pacing and was now wincing at the scents coming from behind the counter. His dog nose becoming a hindrance more than a help. At least he didn't smell any meat coming out from back there. The kid didn't feed. At least, not today. Nachzehrer were like a cross between Ghouls and vampires, they eat the flesh of the dead, or the hearts and blood of the living. This guy looked too thin to be snacking on humans. Maybe it was the monster version of vegetarian. Sam's growl lessened its intensity.

Sam was hearing what everyone was talking about but unable to voice his own questions or concerns beyond intelligible dog barks and growls. He followed Jody to the counter and brought his front half up to rest his paws on the edge, peering over it with her to see past the scratched glass. The clerk was half curled around a trash can, head bowed inside and his groans echoed in the container. A whine escaped his muzzle before he could swallow it down and keep his game face on.

Jody's hand came down onto his furred head to stroke down behind the bent back ears, calming him. Sam looked up at her and then back at Lade before cocking his head to the side in question. She was about to relay the question she knew Sam wanted to ask when they all heard footsteps and the swish of a long coat come from the back of the store.

 

Dean blinked dazedly at the image of Castiel's face on the other side of his small tank. Sure that he didn't just hear a reply. He pushed himself up from his side to sit and stare at the face that pinched in worry. He asked in a small voice, hardly daring to raise it too loud lest the image dissolve and he's left here, _alone_ , again. “Cas?”

It couldn't be him. Couldn't. Cas was dead. He's dead because of what Dean did. Dean rose to his knees, one hand half raised forward. Unable to stop himself from hoping. The slim chance that his best friend is somehow alive. And not just alive, but standing right here. Not one foot away. Chest swelling with hope.

He blinked hard, facing the floor of his tank again. Too good to be true. A cruel joke his mind is playing on him. Repeating to himself that it's not real. It can't be real. He's going to look back up and see nothing. And if he does see something then it's just a horrible hallucination. Nothing more. He's hallucinating all of this crap, and it needs to stop.

Nothing good comes from hope. The sooner he gets that into his head the better. Accept that this is his life now and get over it. “You're not real. You can't be real. I'm loosing my mind.” Dean kept his eyes closed while facing the paper strewn floor. “You're not Cas. You're just my insanity.” He huffed a bitter laugh and opened his eyes but kept them aimed down.

Cas stood there, hunched over sideways to be able to look inside the tank. He wanted to open it, reach in and pull Dean out, pull him to safety, but knew that his small friend wasn't ready for that kind of contact yet. He heard Sam and Jody at the end of the aisle.

“Dean, it's alright, it's me.” The hallucination said softly.

Sounding so damned real, it only proved to Dean how insane he was. The real Cas wouldn't sound so broken up. He's a warrior. The real Cas wasn't even here. He was in a billion pieces from the graces going supernova. God he missed him. “No, you're dead. I'm dead. We are all dead. I'm just taking my sweet ass time to accept it and let death take me for good.” Dean peered up and frowned. The image was still there. Mocking him. Taunting him.

Castiel's heart was breaking but he had to be strong. Sam must not be able to hear what Dean's saying because the dog is twining around his legs, breathing rapidly in happiness like dogs do. He felt the pure joy coming up from the younger brother. The relief that Dean was fine. That they'd finally found him. Belatedly realizing that Sam can't see for himself either, “Sam. He's fine.” and noticed out of the corner of his eyes how Dean's head turned a little to watch and listen.

Dean rose to his knees, eyes shining and heart beating fast. He hadn't heard that name spoken aloud in so long. He didn't even know how long. Time wasn't something that the souls could keep track of easily so it could be days or months. All Dean knew was that it was far too long. He crept closer on his knees to the front of his tank to see the space below the shelf his tank was on. Wondering why Cas was addressing Sam on the ground. Worry for his tiny brother left on the floor where people walk. Another thing that proved to him that this wasn't real. Cas would never do that to Sam.

All three of them jolted at the sound of a crash. Castiel spun around and shouted in alarm, “Claire!”

Dean's head swam. Not only was Cas here, but Sam and Claire too. His reality and sanity going haywire. No way was this happening. His family can't be here. But... it's starting to sound like real life to him. The story had played out a few times before like this. His family comes to the rescue but get hurt in the process. He didn't know if this was _also_ created in his head, filling in the improbable scenario of being found by a living and breathing angel, safe and sound, with the recurring theme of them being in trouble.

Dean had crept forward and was now at the front of his tank, knees planted on the floor, splayed out slightly to prop him up as close as he could get to the glass without falling over. His left hand steady on the glass wall and right hand reaching up towards the angel's concerned face. The minute changes in the facial expression before him. Dean could even see his own image reflected in Cas's eyes with how close the angel was to him. “Cas... is it really you?” even to his own ears it sounded so cliché but the thing about clichés is that they happen often enough to be familiar and relate-able. The random thought rolling around Dean's head as he stared and stared at the face on the other side of the glass.

The memory of his Sammy going through those doubts in reality coming at him like a freight train. Sam was seeing Lucifer everywhere when he went crazy, and said many times that it was like torture. Dean could relate much better now. This _was_ torture.

Castiel was worried. Dean was acting very strangely and desperate to know what was real or not. His anger rising at how Dean had been treated here. How much mental torment the poor soul went through. He heard the fight behind him die off for a few seconds before gunshots were heard. He turned to see what was going on but was confused at the sight. Claire and Jody were emptying their guns at the clerk but none of them hit their mark. He watched for a moment more but trusted the four of them to handle the situation without him. The monster seemed trapped for now.

Castiel crouched back in front of Dean's tank, speaking clearly and softly for the quivering soul. “Dean. It is me. This is real. We tracked you down from the auction house and found you here. Sam is possessing the dog that was able to follow your scent, he's fine. We are all fine. It's alright.”

Dean's expression shifted a few times. Doubt, regret, sadness.

“Dean, none of this was your fault.” Castiel placed a hand on the shelf, slowly bringing his fingers forwards to press against the other side of the glass where Dean had his small hands raised. “Dean... you're safe.”

At that, the small man crumpled to the ground. Sobs wracking his body.

Castiel punished himself for somehow making it worse but his apology was swallowed down at the look of sheer relief that Dean sent up at him.

“Cas.” Dean choked out, sniffling. “Cas. Cas you're _alive_?”

“Yes, Dean.” He smiled warmly down at him. His fingers itching to get his friend out of that tank. “May I uh. May I take you out now?”

Dean blinked at him past the quick breaths that never really filled his lungs, swallowing a few times as if he forgot how. He turned his head to take in his surroundings as if he forgot where he was for a moment. “Get me out of here.” Dean said, but it also sounded like a plea.

Castiel's smile widened. His hands came up eager to do just that, but slowed once he saw the flinch that came over Dean's body at the sudden view of them. The angel wondered just how many hands had grabbed Dean for him to have that knee jerk reaction of cowering down into a ball for protection. His arms brought in tight to his chest to protect his fragile ribs and belly. Such an instinctual move borne of rough handling. His teeth nearly chipped he was grinding them so hard.

Castiel kept hidden his observations and speculations for later. When they're all home safe and sound and for when Dean's not a quivering mess.

The sigil on the lid sparked angrily at his touch but that was dealt with swiftly as he scorched the entire lid. Smiting the sigil from existence but keeping the lid solid so it wouldn't fall on Dean below. The small man scrambled away and cowered into the corner anyways and Castiel restrained himself from just grabbing Dean up in a fist to get him out of there faster.

“I will never hurt you, Dean.” Castiel said softly, earnest blue eyes locked onto Dean's form.

Dean panted through his panicked reaction. Wild green eyes darting everywhere, landing on the hand overhead and the sizzling remains of the sigil that kept him harmless and contained. He couldn't suddenly stop being afraid of the sight of hands. Subjected to their whims for so long, he learned that they only brought humiliation and pain. The strength in just one finger was able to overpower his whole body.

The tank was too small and crowded for Cas to lay out his hand for Dean to willingly step onto. Dean would have to crawl inside the cupped fingers and palm, or, Cas would have to remove the tank from the shelf to get his hand into a better angle. Cas briefly entertained the notion of taking the tank with Dean staying inside with them on out.

The front of the store was mostly quiet, the humans and monster talking now. Talking was preferable to fighting if there was no real danger here, but, the clerk was no innocent. He kept Dean in a cage and put him up for sale. He tormented this poor soul so badly that it had his friend questioning reality and scared of every movement. Anger swelled inside him as he faced the clerk.

Dean watched Cas pull his hand back out of his tank, resting it overhead as the angel stood up straight again and faced the front. Only then did Dean remember that his family was fighting for him. But, there was no need. Lade wasn't a bad kid. He just didn't know. Dean didn't tell him the truth because he was scared of what would happen if he did. Now he regretted it.

Dread started to pool in his gut at the ridged stance Cas was taking. From Dean's position, he saw the glint of an angel blade fall from his sleeve and Dean knew that the clerk's life was forfeit if he didn't do something. “Cas! Wait!” Dean jumped to his feet, fists punching the tank walls for attention. Cas was in his battle calm mode and Dean punched harder. “Lade didn't know any better! He's a good kid! I swear! Don't hurt him!”

Castiel, flicked his eyes down to Dean. Hearing him but not believing it. “You're suffering from Stockholm syndrome. It will pass.” Facing front again. “Don't watch this.”

“Cas stop! I'm not!” Dean jumped to the other wall of his tank when Cas took a single step and cleared what it would take Dean a hundred steps to do the same. “I was playing dumb, Cas! I was pretending to be an animal!” Dean frantically kicked and punched the walls. “ _Lade! Run!!_ ”

It was that warning Dean sent to the monster that stilled his next step. Turning back to face Dean who was practically tearing his hair out with fear. He hadn't seen that look on Dean's face in years. Reserved for when someone Dean cares about is about to die. Someone Dean can't save.

Dean's attention kept going from Cas to to the clerk. Seeing that the giant stopped his advance on the clerk, Dean placed both hands onto the wall of the tank, eyes locked onto Cas's far above. “Cas, you can't kill the kid. He's good. He's decent. He treated me and all the other creatures with respect and I hadn't had that in awhile. I know what this looks like, but trust me. He is not the bad guy.”

Cas turned towards Dean more fully. “You swear it?” The residual anger still there inside the angel.

“Yeah, man. I swear. There are plenty of monsters out there but he's not one of them. He's just a kid going to college, chasing a skirt, and trying to make a decent living away from his asshole colony. You gotta tell them not to hurt him, please?” Dean couldn't see the front very well from the way his tank was angled, but he could hear his family over there, scaring the shit out of the kid.

Castiel nodded, seeing that the fight was already basically over. And the kid in question was apparently vomiting behind the counter. He wrinkled his nose at that. For a monster, he wasn't really acting like a monster. Nachzehrer were never one of the 'top ten' evils in any case. The hunts for their kind were few and far between.

He turned back towards Dean and raised his hand again, slowly. Letting the shrunken hunter get used to the sight of it before he reached towards the lid and opened it. Thankfully, Dean only flinched once as it dipped down at a snails pace towards the floor. Dean's little chest heaved a few times while fists the size of pencil erasers clenched at his sides. Dean willingly stepped forwards and he sat down onto the tips of Cas's fingers, exhaling his held breath and pushing his back into the curve of the fingers so he wouldn't fall forward and out of the hand. The fingertips lifted slightly so now Dean was half reclining in the curve and the whole hand raised just as slow as it had descended. Dean crossed his legs so they wouldn't dangle off the side into nothingness.

Castiel didn't comment on the ongoing mutters that Dean was making about how he 'was fine, this was ok, and that he wanted to be here'. The shrunken left the tank for the last time and Dean turned to watch it dwindle in size as Cas brought him close to his chest height. Other hand cupped around so there was no chance of Dean falling. Dean had to adjust his seat a few times to keep facing the huge head above him. So used to being grabbed and manipulated, he forgotten how to keep himself steady in bowled hands.

Castiel saw the new fear in Dean's face as he kept stealing looks off the side of the hands at how high up he was. Castiel brought his right thumb in, and Dean reached for it with both hands. It gently pressed in closer to the scared form. Never putting too much pressure on Dean's waist or legs, but enough to make Dean feel more secure. After a few seconds, Dean gave a shaky thumbs up and Cas started walking towards the front of the store. The way Dean was acting, told Cas volumes about his experiences here. He forced himself to tamp down on the anger as he finally stood in front of the counter.

The clerk was on the floor, curled around a truly foul smelling trash can.

Dean turned in his seat and saw Jody standing next to Cas, and Claire on the other side. A yip from below had Dean leaning over to see a very happy looking dog with glowing eyes.

“Sammy.” Dean breathed in relief.

The dog pranced in place before it made an aborted jump before it stilled and landed on all fours again after just a few inches off the ground. Another half jump and it gaped up and around. A whine escaping his throat as it spun to face the counter again, paws on the edge and a new growl coming from his mouth.

“Dude, it's the warding. It wouldn't let me change shape either. I can't turn soul, otherwise I'd have left _ages_ ago.”

The clerk's head snapped up and he scrambled to the opposite side of the small space. Gaping like a fish at the sight of the small man speaking to the dog like it was normal. “You can talk. You can _talk_? You could talk this whole time?!” Lade tried to get to his feet but his knees weren't cooperating. “Why didn't you tell me _who you were?_ ”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he felt the eyes of everyone around him land square on his shoulders. “I uh, I didn't know what you'd do to me when you found out that I was the murderer you worried I was. I am sorry, kid.” It was the only thing he could say. Everything else felt like a bad excuse.

Lade was about to pass out. All his fears realized. He raised his hands to his head and covered himself as best he could before saying in a watery voice. “Just make it quick.”

The eyes that had been on Dean were now on the clerk. “Excuse me?” Dean asked, hands going to the fingertips to see past them.

“Kill me quickly.” Lade whimpered and chanced a look upwards. “Just don't hurt the others. They are harmless. And we never serve any troublemakers. The ones that shop here, they're not violent. I swear.”

“Whoa, easy there, kid. Easy. No one's killing anybody. Cept maybe that bitch that brought me here in the first place. That woman tried to eat me.” Dean shivered. Sam gasped and growled.

Lade nodded a bunch of times. He'd heard stories about that one. She liked to kill helpless creatures, for fun almost as much as for food. Her taste for living humans was rumored but with this kind of confirmation, he knew it must be true. She told Trent she found Dean at the auction house, insisted it was the Dean Winchester, and _still_ tried to eat the small human. When that failed, she wanted Trent to do it for her but he refused and bought the little guy instead. Thankful that she didn't just take the small human to someplace else, she just wanted to get rid of him.

Castiel spoke up next, “What is her name.”

Lade stammered for a second before pushing himself up to a stand. He was about to walk down the counter to retrieve the notebook of acquisitions and sales, but that was beyond his protective field. His hands hovered in the air. He could tell them where it was, but, there was also a bunch of sensitive information in there as well. Other supernatural beings and companies that supply their livestock. Giving it to Hunters would be very very dangerous. The others watched expectantly. Lade swallowed hard, hands folding around each other. “If I leave this space, that's protecting me, are you going to uh, kill me?”

“Do we have reason to?” Alex spoke up and folded her arms with a raised brow.

“No! No I swear, I'm not like that. I rebelled against my colony. I love humans. AS FRIENDS!” he added quickly, practically shouting. He quieted at the sight of the little one raising his hands over his ears. “Shit, sorry, uh, Dean.” The name still sounded like a death sentence on his tongue but he shoved it aside. If Dean wanted him to die, he sure didn't look it. All they'd have to do was wait him out. He had no food or water back here and with a phone call, they could bring in all of the Hunters down on this little pet shop to kill every one that comes by. A trap laying in wait until there's no more supernatural people to come by.

Lade swallowed hard a few more times. Running through the possibilities and consequences of his leaving versus staying behind the field. Taking in the Hunters countenances that surrounded him, he no longer felt like they wanted to kill him outright.

“Ok, uh, I'm trusting you Hunters. I'm trusting you.” He got out and took a deep breath as he stepped forwards and out of the field. It shimmered the air for a few seconds before the pressure released from around him. He darted his dark brown eyes around but no one made a move for knives or guns so he wasted no more of their time in getting the booklet. He flipped the pages quickly and landed on the one marked for the day Trent bought Dean and tore it out of the booklet, shoving the booklet into the safe's drop box so they couldn't get to it as easily as snatching it from his hands. They were unconcerned about the move for the most part. Only getting an eye roll from the long haired brunette and a squint from the blond. The slightly older woman took the sheet of paper and scanned down it as she held it up to the man's eyes that had Dean in his cupped hands.

“I know where that is.” The man said in a deep rumbling voice and addressed Lade next. “Keep your nose clean or we'll be back.”

Dean thumped his fist onto the thumb that was laid on top of his legs. “Ease up, Cas.” facing Lade again. “I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I hope you can keep your job after this and that business doesn't suck. We'll try and keep the other guys off of your back, but, we can't control all hunters. Watch yourself and stay safe, Lade.”

Alex and Claire made for the door followed by Jody close behind. Making sure that the coast was clear of any monster back up that that whole scene might have alerted and called in.

“Wait.” Lade said, hands on the counter and leaning forward as Castiel started for the door last. “Dean?”

Castiel turned and held Dean up a little higher to be able to address the clerk. “Yeah?”

“What happened?” he asked. The question had been bothering him since he first heard from Trent that the small guy looked like a Winchester. How such a powerful Hunter could be brought down so low.

Dean's gaze drifted away for a moment. “That's a long story. But, cliffs notes version? I died and Crowley brought me back. Then we were kidnapped and sold at auction and Cas here blew up the auction house and I was brought here.”

“Wait, Crowley? The same Crowley that -”

“Yeah, King of Hell. Bag of dicks.” Dean shrugged. “Did a half assed job bringing me back.” He raised his arms out. Leaving out the fact that Sam was with him the whole time. If there was a chance that it could help his brother in the long run, there was no reason to let it out that Sam had died too. They needed monsters to have that same fear that he's heard from countless of monsters over the last few weeks. That if they hurt one Winchester, the other will be right behind to take them out. Their reputation keeping the monsters at bay until they're able to fix this 'little' problem.

Dean knew it wouldn't make any difference to insist to Lade that he only killed bad guys, because that would be a straight up lie. He killed plenty of innocent lives too. He was lost and misguided, but now he's got a far better understanding of what it's like for monsters. How hard it is to just get by even if they're one of the good ones. He felt bad for Lade and the ones like him.

“Hey, kid. Good luck, man. I know you're gonna be ok.” Dean lifted his chin and said, “I'm proud of you.”

Lade furrowed his brow at that. Not knowing if he should take it as a compliment or not coming from a _Winchester_. But, he spent time with him. Lade is now starting to question if everything he's been led to believe was true about the infamous brothers. Before he could say anything more, the man in the trench coat left the store and walked out of his life.

Thirty minutes later, as he was sweeping up the mess, Lade realized 'Cas' was short for Castiel. He just saw the angel Castiel. That he was in the presence of an angel, and _lived_. And no one would ever believe him. He knew the infamous Dean Winchester. Had him in the palm of his hand – many times. Fed the man berries and fruit and sang him Beatles tunes when business was slow. The apocalypse bringing hunter. Dean Winchester. And he actually _spoke_ to the angel Castiel who was for a time, as powerful as God.

Both of those guys had been reincarnated many times before and could wipe out an entire city if they felt like it. The room began to swim around the poor clerk. The unstoppable Winchesters spared his life. He struggled to remember seeing if Sam Winchester was there somewhere as well but drew a blank. Perhaps the younger brother was hunting elsewhere. Who knows. All Lade knows is that when he gets home, he's gonna tell his girlfriend everything, and if she's still willing to stay at his side, then he will propose right then and there. Because life is too short to wait any longer. Then, he's gonna call in sick for the next month. Or year. Trent will have to close shop anyway till the danger has passed.

Lade let himself lay down on the floor to stare at the dimmed lights overhead. Thanking his lucky stars that he's still alive, that the creatures are all ok, and that the place didn't burn down on his watch. Trent will never believe him. His gaze flickered to one of the cameras overhead. Well, he might believe him.

 

The walk from the pet store was quiet until they were far enough from hearing range of anyone nearby. Retracing their steps back to the jeep. Jody tapped on Alex's shoulder, “You get the uh,”

“Yeah. The security tape's right here.” Alex pat her jeans pocket. When the attention was off of her, she managed to swipe the memory cards out of the recorder in the back room. Standard procedure for their hunts when they have enough people on hand. Check the exits, get rid of the evidence. A job almost as important as the first. When it was just the two brothers, they had to do all that after the fight in a hurry before police sirens caught up to them. It was important to make sure they stay off the radar of law enforcement and the monster community alike. The fewer pictures floating around with hunters in them, the better.

The Winchesters were too famous to remain anonymous for more than an hour in monster's company, but no one needed to know what the next generation of hunters looked like.

Sam trotted along Cas's side, hardly watching where he was going since his eyes were fixed on Dean in the cupped hands above. Finally he couldn't stand waiting so he let the dog go and floated up towards the hands. Dean startled back from the sudden bright glow and chuckled happily at the sight of Sam swirling around the hands. Blinking and sparking. The dog snorted into the ground and followed after for a few steps. Confused if it wanted to keep following the humans or to go it's own way. The man had healed his sore neck from that attack earlier and he felt better than ever before. Even his fleas were gone. The dog shook himself out and trotted along behind the pack.

Dean reached out a hand and felt it contact his brother's soul energy and like so long ago, Sam was sparked back into his corporeal self a few seconds before he was ready to do it himself. Sam landed in a tangled heap next to Dean who started laughing loud and hard as Sam righted himself. Before Sam could finish getting his head on top, he found himself crushed up against Dean in a tight embrace.

His hands nudged Dean's arms aside just long enough to wrap around Dean too. Patting his shoulder and burying his face into Dean's coat. “Missed you, Jerk.”

“Me too, Bitch.” Dean sniffled.

If the hug went on for a solid heart warming minute, no one mentioned it. Castiel's hands curled in a little closer, giving them warmth and security and his own affection at seeing the happy tear filled reunion going on in his hands below. His pace leveled out as much as he could make it, and the ladies ahead of him took note and slowed their own stride to match his. Stealing glances at the brothers now and then as they finally sat back down and talked within the protective walls of Cas's fingers.

The walk back to the jeep took a bit longer, and when they got there, they found a furry friend wagging his tail, waiting for the back hatch to open so he could go home too.

Dean heard the happy yips beyond the hands, and sighed at the hopeful look in Sam's eyes. “Fine. We can keep him.”

Sam's grin widened but stilled at Dean's next proclamation. “ _HOWEVER,_ you're in charge of feeding it, taking care of it, and giving him exercise. I don't want to wake up to a hungry mountain of fur.”

Sam was starkly reminded that, yes, any dog would be a literal massive undertaking to them at about 4 inches tall. Not even as long as the dog's nose. And having to feed and take care of it would be nearly impossible.

Dean added on, “And don't make Cas do it for you.”

Sam pouted on his side of the hands. Castiel didn't say a word one way or the other. He merely got into the back seat behind Jody. The same one he popped in on, and settled his hands on his lap. The dog flopped a paw over the edge of the back seat to look around the jeep and yowl-yip noisily at everything it saw. Excited to be going on a car ride without being possessed by a soul this time.

The pup settled soon enough as Jody made their way back to her house to get the rest of Sam's things together and to drop the girls off. After that, Jody was going to drive them back to the bunker. The girls had school in the morning and can't miss another day or risk getting expelled. Sheriff's kids or no, they were already pushing the principal's limits. Jody didn't mention aloud that it looked as though Dean would need some time alone to get over all the events that were thrown at him. She wanted to hug him terribly but knew that with as nervous as he looks now, any squeezing at all by a giant, even done with love, would make him panic. He needs peace and quiet right now and all of the huge giants were simply unable to give him that. Once the boys get settled, then she and the girls will return for a weekend visit. Not before he's ready.

Over the course of the drive, Sam saw how Alex fell in love with the large hairy beast. Combing her fingers through the shaggy fur and untangling the small knots. Checking his ears and eyes to make sure he's healthy as can be. Her nurses training coming in handy.

It became obvious over the hours long trip that she would be the best choice in ownership. As much as Sam loved dogs, it was nowhere near practical for them to have one at the moment. Dean's continuing list of rules was far from simple, and Sam wouldn't be able to do a fraction of the chores. Just cleaning the feet of the building sized dog after coming inside from the rain would be impossible by itself on his own. They weren't even as tall as the dog's dewclaw. And what dog would obey a master that resembled a squeaking chew toy more than anything.

Alex decided to name the pup Wilhelm after it's unique yipping yelp that it did when it was trying not to bark too loud. Learning quickly that outright barks hurt the tiny people.

That settled, there was nothing to keep Dean's mind from wandering. During the whole trip, Dean kept pinching himself. Sam caught him a few times and bumped into his side to distract him. Picking up a conversation that had nothing to do with what they went through for the past few weeks. No one was ready to rehash the horrors just yet. That would be after they got home and had a chance to rest and recuperate.

The boys came in for breakfast, but, once the girls downed a couple of cans of energy drink and left for school, they were back to packing up and leaving again. This trip to the bunker would be several hours and Cas offered to drive since Jody needed to sleep at some point. The brothers sat on the seat between the two giants and Sam caught Dean pinching his arms and legs even more. Sam figured out why by himself, and looked at Dean before pressing his thumb into his palm. It still had the faint 'v' scar on it, even in this body. Silently conveying his concern and deep understanding.

Sam whispered too quiet for the giants to hear overhead. “It is real, Dean.” Giving a soft smile. “Stone number one. Right?”

Dean's eyes welled with unshed tears and he nodded a few times before turning his head away to look at the underside of the jeep's dash. Unable to see much from their spot but also unwilling to show Sam just how much of a sappy chick flick having sucker he'd become.

“Wanna see something cool?” Sam said suddenly, looking damn near giddy.

Dean was skeptical but eventually nodded.

“Follow me.” Sam turned soul again and rose from the seat to dart through it to the backseat.

It took Dean a few tries but he finally turned into his soul self. He rose slower from the seat than Sam did. The return to his new natural form was nearly overwhelming. The onslaught of sights, sounds, signals coming in made him a little dizzy but Cas was there with one hand on the wheel, and the other softly stroking a few of the light wispy tendrils.

“Congratulations.” Cas said warmly and inclined his head towards the backseat. “Sam's back there waiting for you.” A grin forming on the angels lips as if he was hiding a secret.

Dean sparked once and moved towards the seat, pausing for a second before going through it instead of over like he was intending. Reminding himself that he can move through walls again. That he's not going to be trapped behind barriers like he was before. He came out on the other side and was blown away by the sight before him.

'You weren't kidding, Sammy.' Dean thought to his brother who was as smug looking as a glowing soul could be as he zipped around enormous, beautiful, healthy feathers. The sight would have brought him to tears and he was so happy he could burst. Cas's wings were stunning and full of life again.

Sam came in close and sparked mischievously at his brother, inciting a chase around in the backseat with Cas's inky black wings as their playground. Every once in awhile, they'd graze the surface of a feather and get a slight buzz of energy from it and make Cas shiver. Turning it into a game of 'dodge feather' as they dared each other to get as close as possible without touching while flying around the splaying and folding wings.

To Jody up front, it looked like they lost their minds but Castiel had such a silly gummy grin on his face, she figured it was something she just couldn't see, and left the supernatural things to their games. So long as they let her sleep and don't short out her jeep again, they can do whatever they like.

Their family was whole and happy again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?? what'd ya think?  
> Feed the author!


	35. Light on the Mayo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys learn how to make cowboy beans.

Chapter Thirty Five:

Light on the Mayo

 

 

The jeep would arrive at the bunker at about 5pm, so the small group stopped along the way in a small town to grab supplies for home. They wouldn't have to leave anytime soon once they got there.

Dean was a nervous wreck. Worried that they'd all get kidnapped somehow, despite the chances of it happening again, here in this random town, being astronomical. Sam offered to stay with him in the jeep while Castiel and Jody went in to max out one of the boy's fraudulent credit cards, but Dean's mind shifted to being convinced that that would only leave the two of them in a more vulnerable place. No friendly giants around to protect them. He hated how he easily things were scaring him now. He should be feeling better now that he's back in his soul form and able to move through walls again, but he wasn't. Hypersensitive to the incoming signals, searching for the enemy that must be around the next corner. Not finding any made his mind think that the monsters were just getting craftier and that they couldn't fight against an enemy that knew about their abilities and how to hide their presence before it was too late.

So, they all sat in the jeep, Castiel parked it outside of this town's version of a Walmart and they waited calmly for Dean to decide what he'd like to do. Dean's embarrassment over his fears made him want to sink under the seats till there was nothing visible. He hadn't yet turned solid, so Sam stayed in his soul form to ease Dean's mind. Translating for Dean in the form of a flickering flashlight that Jody had placed next to him. Dean was too emotionally charged at the moment to get out anything intelligible using the flashlight Morse code. Or even to follow what Sam was saying exactly with it.

After ten minutes of small talk between the giants, Jody peered down again to check up on the two small souls that were hovering just a scant centimeter above the seat between she and Castiel. Dean was sparking and swirling tightly in clear anxious movements. Sam drifting a few of his tendrils in soothing waves at his brother, trying to calm him down. The faint buzzing in the air letting them know that at least one of the souls was speaking, perhaps both. It was hard to tell. She sighed softly. Dean kept panicking. Best thing to do would be to let it pass without intervening herself, because she wasn't sure if it was being in the presence of 'giants' that was making him even more nervous. She knew that this road to recovery will take as long as it has to for Dean, and that she wouldn't push. Only guide him gently to the truth that everyone was here for him. Supporting him. No judgment.

Castiel had spoken in private with Jody at her place about his observations, relieved to hear that the humans noticed the same. The brother's souls feel every feeling much stronger than they used to. The theory being that they don't have the ability to build up walls to shove it behind. No physical brains to help filter out their thoughts and actions and feelings. Castiel had known hardships for longer than humans have existed, so he was slightly better at dealing with similar aftermaths of being captured.

He was a soldier in Heaven's army. That wasn't the first time he's been held captive, and even after returning to Earth in this vessel over a decade ago, he's been captured several times in more physical prisons. Castiel, of course, didn't like being a prisoner, but he had experience before, and knew how to cope.

Dean and his brother too, had been held against their will at various times their whole lives but somehow it was different now for Dean. Back then, when the monster held them captive, they had a fighting chance of escape. Their jailer was at least the _same size as them,_ and the bars of their cells weren't as thick and solid as the tanks in the pet store or the auction house compared to them. The enemy couldn't simply hold them completely immobile in a single fist. Even half rate monsters and their small children overpowered Dean at that store, turning him every which way with no warning, to inspect the merchandise and find him lacking. Humiliated, belittled, and abused.

Dean hated the treatment he'd gotten from those places, but right now, he hated having to be treated gently, like a kid, here and now too. Most of all, he hated how much he _needed_ it. He hated how he would totally ask for the gentle handling if they didn't already give it without him having to say a word. He felt so _weak_. Powerless. And grateful as all hell that his family wasn't pushing him to overcome his feelings and fears right this second. The reason is, is because he's not sure if his ego or sanity could take many more hits.

He knew, of course he knew, that they were stalling on going inside. Waiting for him to be ok with this shopping trip. And that they would turn around in a heartbeat and head straight home and live off of the scant remains of food in their kitchen till they all starve if he simply asked. Knew that Jody would drop them off at the bunker and return to the store by herself to get the supplies they needed. Because it's Jody, and the woman would not let them go without food if she had anything to say about it. Going it alone for her family.

That sent another spike of fear through Dean's soul as it trembled. The thought of one of their own, being alone.

Rationally, he knew the sheriff could handle herself, and that there was no real danger here of all places, but he also thought that the restaurant back in Lawrence was safe too. Granted, the monsters that had chased them down from the restaurant did so because they probably sensed the supernatural presence in the Impala, and would have gone after any creature that they happened across, but Dean couldn't shake the feeling of being hunted.

Going by the conversation between Arg and Not Arg back at the auction house, the things that caught Cas and him didn't really know who they had captured and sold. They were still out there though, and word had to have spread in the monster community that there was a massive attack back at the auction house that drew in Hunters from all around. Maybe those same shifters that captured Dean and Cas were now wanting revenge on them for killing off their business, in the most literal sense possible. Maybe other monsters that survived the Hunters were joining forces and tracking them down right now for killing their friends. Spurred by the knowledge that at least one Winchester was a tiny weak thing that they'd be able to destroy with the Angel out of the way. Dean hoped that no one knew that Cas survived. But also knew how shitty their luck was and trembled as he took in his Angel's presence. Cas was on the mend, but not at full strength.

Dean jolted back to reality when he heard Jody shift her purse up from underneath her seat to pull out her wallet. The move casual as can be, reminded the small soul that this wasn't a battle field. They probably weren't being hunted down, and even if they were, the monsters would have to know that the sheriff was with them. There's no way in hell that Lade would spill the beans, and even if he did, Lade had no way of knowing what car Jody was driving. Lade wouldn't sic monsters on them in any case. He was scared of Dean and his family. He knew their reputation and heeded the warning that it was. It didn't make Dean feel any better.

Jody pocketed just her wallet and opened up her door to leave. Dean rose in the air, watching nervously as she closed it behind her and started for the store. His spherical vision also saw Castiel turn in his seat to follow Jody's walk towards a discarded grocery cart in the parking lot to bring it back inside the store to use for herself. Helping out the cart wranglers a bit. Dean lifted higher in the jeep and Sam followed after. Dean could feel Sam's nervousness, like they'd be seen, but didn't pay him much attention.

Castiel settled back into his driver's seat once Jody entered the store, and stared ahead, out of the windshield. Blue eyes scanning the lot and other cars, acting as bodyguard to the souls. Dean hadn't been paying that close attention to the giant's conversation before, so he didn't know what Jody was going to buy in there. He trusted her judgment, of course, but the thought of her going in alone was unbearable.

Dean remembered to lower himself down to a solid surface before he turned solid himself. The air was knocked out of his lungs as he righted himself up again from landing on his front with his legs up and behind him like he'd been skydiving and misjudged the distance to the ground. Sam solidified next to him in a kind of runners crouch and stood up smoothly. Smirking a little at Dean's grumbling complaints about show-off little brothers.

“Cas, uh, you just gonna let her do all the work?” Dean mumbled, but the Angel heard him.

Castiel glanced back down at the brothers in the seat next to him and frowned a little. Coming to the conclusion that Dean had finally relaxed enough to join in. Coming up with an excuse for the delay that doubled as a reassurance to the small Winchesters. “Apologies, I was just scanning the area, looking for anyone that might have followed her in. We're safe here.” He added a slightly exaggerated wink at the end and head bob.

Sam would have scoffed at that, but one half glance at his brother told him that Dean needed to hear that. Swallowing down his remark, he said, “Cool, alright, so let's get a move on.” Lifting up his arms to the side to be picked up easier.

Dean caught the motion and quirked a brow at it before yelping at the sight of an enormous hand descending around his brother and scooping him up in seconds. The hand was about to do the same to Dean but Cas saw him stumble away from the fingers that had been wrapped around Sam and didn't want to squash Dean's courage. Castiel tried not to make it obvious that he was going extra slow in bringing Sam to his chest pocket before returning the hand down for Dean next.

Dean was about six inches further away from Cas now from his backwards stumbling, watching his brother go willingly into the hand and then into the pocket. Hardly squirming at all in either confinement. Cas refrained from grabbing Dean up next in a similar manner, his hand coming in flattened out along the seat. The position was awkward for him, but he wouldn't complain about it. Dean's heart raced again at the sight of the fingers and palm as they crept closer and closer. Stopping two inches in front of him which was about three feet to the shrunken hunter.

Dean coached himself that he can do this in his mind. The fingers twitching slightly with the minor pulses of blood beneath the surface and the random muscle movement over bones and tendons. It felt like he'd fallen back to that fear on the first day they'd become corporeal again. Seeing giants for the first time, and how terrifying it is to be in the overwhelming presence.

Castiel was as still as he could be, gaze drifting a little so as not to make Dean self conscious about taking so long. The silence was getting to Dean as he looked upwards and saw both Sam and Cas looking down at him standing on the seat. Dean huffed a frustrated breath and stepped forwards. The fingers were as long as he was tall so he had to practically jump onto the flattened hand. The width of the smallest finger like an 18 inch thick log to him. He had become so used to being grabbed by giants that having Cas _not grab_ him felt weird somehow. This was different than in the pet shop or at Jody's place. Cas's hands had been curved into bowl shapes. Now it was a flattened platform.

Dean stepped towards the smother palm and sat down in the middle over the lifeline, folding his legs in front of himself and closing his eyes tight. His other fears ramping up the age old fear of heights all over again. Castiel waited a beat before lifting his hand up to the pocket that held Sam and his brother made no comment or judgment whatsoever about why it took Dean so long to take three steps and sit down.

The somber smile that greeted Dean grated on his nerves a little but he said nothing. Sam helped Dean adjust to the deep pocket's swing and they dropped down to the bottom seam. Knowing that it was always going to be dangerous to be seen in public. Cas opened his door and exited the jeep after locking it back up again.

The walk to the store was evenly measured and Dean calmed at the reliable pace. The giant heart that beat inside Cas's chest pushed at his back just enough to be more reassuring than disturbing. Dean sat down and rest his head against the wall of chest while Sam pried his fingers into the fabric strands to spread them out and create a peek hole. Giving his brother a bit of space even though they only had three inches from one side to the other, inside the white, button up shirt's pocket.

Inside the store, Castiel walked down the line of cashiers towards the produce section that greeted him. Finding Jody at the other end, inspecting heads of lettuce. She picked a larger one and moved on to the cucumbers. Cas approached her blindside and she startled at the sudden hand on her shoulder. She frowned at him, before playfully shoving at his side with her own. Remembering a few seconds later that if he's here, then so are Sam and Dean and her eyebrows shot up as she stared at the Angel.

Castiel didn't say a word about it, reading her fears, and lightly brushed a hand over the pocket they were in so that she knew she didn't just crush them inside his lower coat pockets. Castiel sniffed the entire cucumber stand and pulled one out to hand to her. “This one grew with more sunlight and rainwater than the others. It shouldn't expire for at least two weeks.”

Jody smirked and gestured for him to take the lead. Since he was going to eat the majority of the food, he should be the one to pick it out. She was amused at how he determined what was better than what and kept an eye out for anyone that was doing the same eyeballing at them. The cart was quickly filling up with only fresh fruits and vegetables so Jody had to gently remind him that they'd need canned food more, due to how fast fresh foods spoil.

Castiel looked ashamed and bowed slightly to her smaller frame before guiding the cart to the first of the store's ten aisles. Jody's few items went to the child seat part of the cart since she was here anyway, and the rest of it was filled to nearly overflowing. Castiel held a rather large bag of frozen tater tots and wondered where he could fit it when Jody came back over with a fresh cart and a smile on her face. “You got freezer room.” and grabbed the bag of tots along with another with regular fries, tossing them into the new cart.

Inside the pocket, Sam and Dean watched the giants work methodically through the store. Their method of shopping usually consisted solely of hand baskets or carrying stuff in their arms. Living out of a car meant they didn't have room for more than they needed then and there.

With the new cart, came more canned meat and veggies and pastas. Dean surprised Cas when he pipped up his suggestion for pie. It shouldn't have come as a surprise though, they were passing by the bakery and the wonderful scents were surrounding them all. Jody smiled warmly at Cas's chest before filling up the second cart with no less than 8 different kinds of pies. Saying that they can freeze them and eat at their leisure and they'd taste just fine heated up in the oven.

Dean tensed up again at the check out lane. More giants they didn't know all jammed up together in a line. At least Cas had a cart between him and the person in front, with Jody and the second cart behind him. Sam had a hand on his shoulder and would squeeze it whenever Dean looked like he wanted to take a flying leap into his soul form and fly on out of there. Dean was sure the cashier would say something about their heaping cart but the kid just started scanning barcode after barcode while talking about the weather.

Castiel was a little too specific about the forecast and got a raised eyebrow from the teen. Sam shoved an elbow into the wide expanse of chest behind him and muttered just loud enough for the Angel's ears. “Tell her you're a meteorologist or else she's gonna think you're weird.”

Dean smirked, finding enough confidence to say, “If your intent is to weird her out, you could always flash your wings at her and tell her that it's not just butterfly wings that influence the weather across the world.”

Sam chuckled a little, teasing, “Dean, we don't want her calling someone on Cas to get him committed and locked away!” Instantly regretting his choice of words at the stunned expression that fell over Dean's face, or how the body behind him tensed up rock solid.

Jody saw the Angel go rigid and bumped into Cas's butt with her cart when the cashier was finished totaling up his order. She frowned at the man before addressing the cashier loudly, “I'm paying for both of ours.” Bumping a little more forcefully into Cas to get him moving. He spun around with wide eyes and a hand lifted protectively over his shirt pocket before finally seeing Jody there instead of an enemy and he started to breath again.

Castiel guessed that it wasn't just the small Hunter that had some issues to work through after their misadventure. He gripped the handle of his cart a little too tightly, cracking the plastic. He pretended not to notice to keep attention off of himself as he pushed the reloaded cart aside to wait. Jody's cart was soon unloaded, scanned, bagged, and reloaded again. All the while Castiel felt the very slight trembles coming from his pocket and heard Sam apologizing over and over again. His deep voice rumbled around the brothers just loud enough for them to hear but other's to brush off. “It's alright, Sam.” His hand came up and he pressed a gentle finger on the outside of the pocket, dragging it downwards a few times before letting his hand drop to his side again. Pulling his cart further away from the customers that were walking past.

Jody could see the expression on Cas's face and after getting to know the guy a little better, could see that something had happened and she'd have to ask about it out of hearing range of the public. She paid quickly, never looking at the total that was charged on the credit card that Sam had owned, and wanted to get the hell out of there.

She pushed her cart towards the door and Cas followed right behind her. They unloaded the carts into the jeep's backseat and storage hold and got in. “So? Anyone want to tell me what happened?” she asked as she started up the vehicle.

Castiel avoided her gaze for a moment before turning towards her with slightly pleading eyes. She dropped the question like a bag of rocks and turned on the radio instead. “Ehh. Doesn't matter, we'll be getting you three home in twenty minutes.” Nodding to herself as she navigated back to the bunker.

She parked in the garage of the bunker to get that much closer to the kitchen and took as many bags with her on in as she could carry. Guessing more than knowing the way to the kitchen as Castiel seemed adamant that he could carry the rest by himself behind her. He probably could, if it weren't for the fact that the bulk of them would obstruct his vision too much, and probably squish the Winchesters to his chest in the process. So, he relented and only carried in 15 bags and dropped them on the center table. Jody shooshed him out of the kitchen to grab the rest while she found places for everything.

Castiel paused at the threshold of the kitchen, lifting a hand to his pocket to pull it open and peer inside. “Did you two want to um, stay here?”

Jody called over before they could answer, “I need them to tell me where they like their stuff.” pointing towards the top of the fridge for them to get a birds eye view of the room.

Castiel nodded and reached in a couple of fingers. Sam climbed up on his own, and hoisted Dean up onto the hand next like it was normal. The hand then raised to the fridge and they jumped off and landed in a cloud of dust. Cas left them to it to get the rest of the things.

Jody smiled warmly at the sight of the brothers standing on the fridge, dusting themselves off a little and kicking away the larger fluffs. Dean muttering about how he missed this spot when he was cleaning up earlier. Blaming Sam for not telling him since the top of the fridge would have been in the Sasquatch's line of sight.

They worked methodically, talking only about where stuff goes and minor bickering about where it shouldn't go. Jody helped Cas unload the bags onto the counter and held one of the pies separate from the rest on the table, preheating the oven to a very low setting to warm it up gradually.

The brothers turned soul again just long enough to fly to the table and land on it in their solid form again. Having dodged the startled flare of Cas's wings on the way at the sudden brightness in the room that caught the Angel off guard. The brothers were relishing the fact that Dean could transition easier now between his two forms, or that he was even able to transition _at all_. Back in the jeep on the way to Jody's, Dean confessed that he wasn't sure if he had been trying too hard when he was in that monster bitch's hand as she walked to the pet shop, or if it would have mattered at all. If grabbing Dean meant that he was unable to turn into his soul form. Solid contact with that kind of monster keeping him grounded in the solid world. A theory that they tossed around for a while in the jeep. Something to test out later if they run into a friendly monster again.

Sam informed Dean that he's turned soul a few times in Jody, Claire, and Alex's hand at their house in Souix Falls. Mostly from overwhelming feelings and knee jerk reactions to escape something startling. The girls felt guilty for accidentally making loud noises around him and making him shift forms as a defensive reaction. They'd gotten much better at talking quieter, and being more mindful of their actions and what they said so they wouldn't set him off. He was stressed out enough without his brother and best friend. Never knowing their fate or his own if they never found them again. Sam shook his head, coming back to the present to see that his brother was walking towards the desert left out.

Jody turned around and pulled the apple pie further away from Dean and bravely withstood the glare she'd gotten from the shrunken Hunter who had been sneaking over to take a bite while the busy giants weren't looking. Carrying the desert to a side table Dean uses to prepare meals. He could have flown there himself but that would incur some of Jody's ire.

Cas was informed of the proper ways of making Jody's favorite dish for later. Castiel took detailed notes on paper in a blocky kind of script that wasn't English at all. It looked more like a spell than a recipe for something called, 'Cowboy beans'.

Dean perked up at the name and paid attention as well, his inner cowboy nerd making him itch for a proper hat and boots to wear to dinner when it's made. He pouted when he remembered that his hat and boots would each be as large as his bedroom at this size. Add to the fact that he can't exactly wear the boots even if they were his size because his current shoes are part of his very soul, and can't be removed. He kicked petulantly at a bit of debris on his table that was left over from the last meals made here. A crumb from one of Cas's sandwiches. Dean took a moment to look around his kitchen and the last time he'd been in here was just before he and Cas went for take out. He didn't think he'd ever be standing in here again. He might never return to being normal sized to use any of this. Sam either...

Sam could see his brother's mood shifting all over the place and that he was ending up on a sad note. Not needing to know exactly why, due to there being so very many hardships recently, he bumped into Dean's side and angled his chin towards the pie that was lifted up from the other table. Reminding him that good things happen too. Dean grinned and bit his lower lip as he watched the huge pie get prepared for dinner. Sam counted that as a win.

The pie was set in the middle of the oven's cavernous interior and the brothers felt the heat wave wash over them even as they stood on the table several feet away. Cas was finishing writing up the recipe before going back to helping Jody put the dry foods away.

Dean elbowed Sam, “What would happen if we turned soul and went in there, went solid just long enough for a bite of pie, before going soul again and coming out.”

“It would be hot, Dean. Very hot. It's an _oven_.” Sam said slowly. Confused why his brother would even consider it. Dean frowned and flopped down to a pouting sit on a plate that was left out on the table. He smiled at his brother coming back to normal.

Jody decided she might as well start dinner since the hour was getting late and according to the brothers, Cas still had a long ways to go before he was considered a good cook. She pulled back out the hamburger, baked beans, brown sugar and the other ingredients needed for the Cowboy beans and narrated her actions to the inquisitive Angel and the hungry brothers so it would be easier for them to make after she's gone.  
It barely took any time at all, and she laid out the wheat and white bread on three plates. Two slices on her plate, two for Castiel, and one for the brothers to share that was cut in half before mayo was spread over it's upturned surface. Going easy on the mayo for the boys so they could still grab the bread in their hands without it being a mess.

The frying pan full of bubbling meat, beans, and sauce was brought over from the stove and poured over the mayo-ed bread and it dribbled off of the sides. Castiel's brow was furrowed in intense concentration at the method of preparing the finishing touches to the simple dish, and the brothers were gaping at just how much food was being placed in front of them. Jody poured her serving last, spreading it around on top of the bread to cover every inch. Castiel mimicked her actions and the brothers just stared at their slices in front of them on the tea plate. Each of the half slices of bread was as large as a bed to them and the steam wafted up pleasantly into the air. The scent of sweet brown sugar blending with the rich hamburger meats and topped with the bacon-y flavored baked beans made for an interesting combination.

“Dig in boys!” Jody grinned and used her fork to cut off a portion of bread with the concoction dripping off of the sides, leaning forward for the droplets to fall back onto the plate instead of her lap.

Castiel's brow lifted. He thought that he was supposed to fold the two slices of bread together like a sandwich, but now saw that it was a kind of edible plate.

Sam reluctantly pulled his knife from behind his back, manifesting it so he could have something to use to eat with, and Dean did the same with his pocket knife but gave up skewering a single bean fragment and meat combo. He got back to his feet and walked across the table towards Jody, clearing his throat to speak loud enough for the giant to hear him. “Got anything we can use as silverware?”

Jody finished chewing and swallowed the lump down before looking up and around herself at the kitchen. Speaking while she thought about solutions to their problem. “Well, uhhh... chopsticks made out of toothpicks wouldn't really work to keep the sauces from dripping off... um, a measuring spoon is far too big.” Frowning down at Dean, knowing that even the smallest spoon would be as tall as they were. Her eyes landed on a straw sticking out of a fast food cup and wondered if it could be cut down and useful at all. But, a meat Slurpee didn't sound appetizing, and cutting the straw in half lengthwise would create an odd kind of trough. Finally, she caught sight of a bit of aluminum foil sticking out of it's box next to the microwave and she had an idea.

Jody stood up and strode over to the foil and tore off a chunk of it. Bringing it back to the brothers, she tore it up into smaller pieces, handing them over to Dean who stared at them for a moment before catching on and lifting up one of the foot long shreds. He bent it in half, rolled one of the ends for a handle, and curved the other end up like a bowl, creating a spoon that was roughly the size of a mixing spoon but at least it was serviceable for silverware. He picked up a few more good pieces of the foil and brought them over to Sam, putting it in his brother's waiting hand.

Jody watched them work methodically on their cutlery and forgot to hide her grin when they looked up at her. She'd stopped eating to stare and caught herself beaming at their pointed looks.

Castiel was too busy frowning thoughtfully at the dish in front of him, struggling to taste it like a human would. Crowley's suggestion from weeks ago about how to enjoy their expensive drink in the library coming back to him. Ignore the molecules and their individual structures and focus on the whole. Now that his grace is healing faster, it's becoming harder to enjoy the flavors like a human. Perhaps they wouldn't need all this food after all. Angels don't need to eat, but, the brothers can and should be able to enjoy food, even if they might not need to eat either. Sustained by their souls when in that form. Electricity is helpful in a pinch, but food seemed to be their favorite way of getting energy. Reminding them that they were once living, breathing, humans. Any joy he could bring to them was priceless and necessary. So he set about studying this meal's components and the method it was made.

Castiel finished with one slice of the Cowboy bean meal, and checked out how the others were fairing. The brothers were busy working on a corner of their own slices, chopping up a bean into more manageable pieces and dipping it into the sauce and getting a smear of the mayo on the minuscule forks next. A chunk of bread was wrapped around each bite to hold it together as they bit into it. The meat was eaten with just the sauce because they had trouble breaking down the meat into smaller bite sized pieces. Dean started making sandwiches with flattened bits of bread and Sam worked on making a kebab of bean, meat, onion, and bread on a spear made out of a tube of aluminum foil. Trying and failing to eat it without getting the sauce everywhere. Licking his lips, fingers, and wrists as it dribbled everywhere.

All an all, it was a delicious meal and the challenges of it were met with determination and ingenuity. Castiel made a note to make up a few more utensils for the four inch tall brothers so they wouldn't have to do it themselves every time. It would be no problem to toss out the used bits of metal when their done, since they were too small and had too many wrinkles in them to properly clean them off to use again. The roll of foil on the counter would last them years. Castiel even considered how well the foil could be used as plates and cups and other things for them. He planned on bringing it up with them later.

Jody pulled the pie from the oven and placed it in-between them all. Searching drawers for a pie server and hearing a laugh from Sam.

“Dean has a wide variety of them in that jar over there.” and indicated said jar with his entire arm so that the skyscraper sized human could see. And, indeed, there were various servers of all kinds and styles and Jody beamed at the sight of it. Dean folded his arms at being called out like that.

“Half of them came from the bunker, and aren't just for pies.” Dean's frown evident in his voice as he defended his buying habit.

“Yeah? And the other half?” Sam prodded and got punched in the arm for that.

Cas's brow furrowed as Jody sifted through the various servers and spatulas and said, “No, Dean's right, these are for small pies, this one is for big muthas, this one is actually for cakes. This one is for brownies because it has a flat end to it. The plastic ones are for metal pans that may scratch easily. And this,” she held up one, “is actually for spreading frosting on cakes. I have a couple like it at home from my Suzy homemaker days in the early nineties.” and made an impressed sound with Dean's collection. “Can I borrow this one?” she held up one of the smaller models and Dean's grin widened as he nodded firmly. Smug look on his face as he faced Sam's rolling eyes.

Jody nodded back her gratefulness at the loan and set it next to her plate to take home later. She plucked out the fanciest pie server for their warmed apple pie and cut it into six equal portions. Cas went for fresh plates and everyone was served their own slice. The brothers wide eyed at their portions that were far larger than both of them put together.

“Bon appetite!” Jody singsonged and took a big appreciative bite of her slice.

Castiel did the same and his concentrating frown was back on his face.

Dean's newly formed fork wavered in the air over the waist high slice. “I'm gonna need a bigger mouth.”

Sam did a spit take of his first bite and laughed so hard he nearly fell over. Recalling that line from their time in TV land. Dean's sly smirk telling him that he was successful in sending that inside joke his way.

The four of them mmm-ed and moaned at the flavors and soon, conversation started up as if this was a normal afternoon dinner at the house. The whole domestic scene helped Dean and Cas transition back into their old lives. Even if this particular kind of homey event was a rarity. Their dinners were usually interrupted by some case or a phone call or two from their Hunting buddies asking for information or advice.

Sam suddenly realized that they hadn't heard from anyone like that in awhile and would have to ask the others about that later. Right now, everyone was relaxed and needed this break from the stresses they'd all suffered through. Right now... this was his idea of happiness.

The niggling thoughts and worry's continued on, however, much as Sam tried to push them back. Dean was safe by his side, laughing past a full mouth of sugar and apples. His body jittery from the energy rush caused by the abundance of food. Dean turned to face Sam and he must have thought of something brilliant because he reached into his back pocket to manifest his wallet and started to drop it and have it turn into his soul again so that he could use up some of that buzzing energy and eat more. Winking at his younger brother at remembering the trick ages ago in the Impala.

At the memory, Sam's jaw dropped. “Shit! The Impala!” Sam exclaimed.

Dean's eyes widened sharply, dread spreading across his features as he sat upright, stiff as a board as he spit out his bite. “My Baby!”

Castiel nearly jumped at the sudden distress coming from the brothers and turned to see Jody just as startled and stunned before settling on pained resignation at having to be the bearer of bad news.

“Oh, right.” Jody coughed and swallowed thickly. “Uh, Dean? Don't be mad.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My family had been making Cowboy beans and boyscout stew for decades. long before this old wolf was born, my dad was a scout leader to a group of kids and would regularly play harmless pranks on them, aided by my older brother that was in on the joke. One time, he was leading them through the woods and stopped to drop a handful of malted milk balls on a leaf and called their attention to it. "oh, look here. so, you can tell that this is deer droppings and that it's been here fairly recent, but the only way to make sure how long ago they were here, is by it's moisture content." and picked up one of the small chocolate balls and squeezing it, before popping it into his mouth. "less than two hours ago, we might still see the deer."   
> the kids were horrified. dad handed one to my brother who ate it and said, "Yeah, about two hours." and ate a few more for the hell of it. I would have loved to have been there to see that! Knowing that my dad is the king of straight faces while lying his ass off for pranks and jokes. he came clean later... I hope. though he did mention that he wanted to know how many of his scouts talked about it years later.   
> wow, that was off tangent. anyway - Dad would concoct these meals for his kids that were easy to make in the woods and were delicious. one time, he put in baking soda into the pot to make it bubble over and look disgusting and he and my brother just ate away like it was no big deal that their dinner looked like a brown blob. he was a very good cook in my humble opinion, and I still look to those meals as home made comfort foods.   
> here is the recipe for Cowboy beans in case you were wondering!  
> Hamburger one pound - any fat content  
> pork and beans - any brand, regular sized can  
> tomato soup - any brand, smaller can  
> brown sugar - 1/2 cup light or dark  
> yellow mustard - wet, any brand  
> onion - dry or fresh to cook with hamburger - two tbsp?  
> (optional - dash of Worcestershire sauce)  
> in a large frying pan, brown and crumble hamburger until cooked, with onion.  
> add whole can of pork and beans, can of tomato soup, and about 1/2 cup brown sugar and about 1/4th cup yellow mustard. cook until thickened. serve over bread with mayo or miracle whip type salad dressing. serve while hot.
> 
> lemme know if any of y'all make it up and what you think! or if anyone wants the simple boy scout stew recipe that is my faaaavorite dish evers. 
> 
> oh and uh, if you liked the Mills cooking show chapter lol


	36. i am so sorry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know it's been months but I am not really any closer to having the next chapter done - I have no energy or creativity that lasts longer than an hour at most.

there is no chapter here - I just want to apologize for the massive delay on this chapter. Work has been kicking my ass lately (only 47 hours this week instead of their planned 51 - sarcastic 'woot!' ) and I have no will left to write. I do some drawings here and there, put up on deviantart, but these text wips take days/weeks of TIME and ENERGY that I just don't have. I put up what I had so far for the next chapter in another 'story' called 'Don't read this! Unedited spoilers!' and it can be found here as chapter two and three - https://archiveofourown.org/works/9305708  
It is basically notes and ideas without much to go on. Before - all I needed was a single thought to write an entire chapter but I just can't do it anymore. I am sorry. I might be able to in the future - but I don't know when. I just didn't want y'all to wait even longer for what comes next for this. The ideas that had been bouncing around my head months ago. argh. Send me good vibes?


End file.
